PRIVATE  LIBRARY  OF 

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REMINISCENCES 
OF    MY    LIFE 


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Photo  by 


Elliott  &  Fry 


SIR    CHARLES    SANTLEY 


REMINISCENCES 
OF  MY  LIFE 


BY 

CHARLES    SANTLEY 


'.../A^.;i^^,>i'U' 


NEW   YORK:    BRENTANO'S    1909 
LONDON:    ISAAC    PITMAN   &  SONS,    LTD. 


53  k^ 


DEDICATION 


67  Carlton  Hill, 

N.W. 


My  dear  Kilmorey, 


Since  we  first  became  acquainted,  some  fifty 
years  ago,  you  have  been  my  staunch  friend  and 
patron  ;  and  at  a  recent  important  crisis  in  my 
career,  your  unbounded  generosity  rendered  me 
invaluable  service.  I  therefore  beg  you  to  accept 
the  dedication  of  these  ''  reminiscences/'  the  onlv 
return  I  can  offer  you. 

Your  affectionate  and  grateful  old  friend, 

C.  Santley. 

To  the  Earl  of  Kilmorey,  K.P., 
Mourne  Park, 
Newry. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    I 

PAGB 

Nationality — Ancestry — An  Aunt's  Elopement — My  Uncle 
Proprietor  of  Harrow  Coach — Favourite  of  the  Boys — 
Slight  Connection  with  Geordie  Stephenson — A  Herculean 
Alto-soloist — First  Introduction  to  the  Theatre — Desire  to 
Appear  thereon — The  Invisible  Orchestra — "  Sea  "  v. 
"  Stage  " — "  Puritanical    Objections  " — Macready        . .        1 


CHAPTER   II 

My  First  Opera — Male  Soprano — Tamberlik's  high  C  sharp — 
Devilshoof — Low  Comedians — Sims  Reeves  in  Opera — 
Pyne  and  Harrison  English  Opera  Company — An  Angel 
in  Blue  and  White — Weiss's  First  Appearance  in  London 
— Our  Acquaintance — "  II  Trovatore  "  at  Astley's — 
Gassier's  Larks — Harry  Corri — An  Aspiring  Baritone — 
Work  and  Musical  Studies  . .  . .  . .  . .  ..14 


CHAPTER    III 

Nervous  Temperament — Criticisms,  Serious  and  Amusing — 
Professional  Tour  in  1872 — An  Eccentric  Accompanist — 
An  Oblivious  Agent — John  Boosey — His  Hospitality^  and 
Piping  Bullfinch        , .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . .  . .      26 


CHAPTER    IV 

Connection  with  the  Kemble  Family — Impecunious  Rela- 
tions— An  Exception — Secret  Matrimoni?J  Engagement — 
"The  Gaff  Blown  "—"  All's  well  that  ends  well  "— 
Honeymoon — Dismal  Lodgings — Ghostly  Disturbances — 
Monotonous  Diet — Change  for  the  Better — A  Windfall        35 

ix 


X  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER    V  PAGE 

The  Kemble  Family — John  Kemble  on  Edmund  Kean — 
Terror  of  Dogs — Four-footed  Beasts  in  General — The 
Purveyor  of  Buttermilk — How  to  Baffle  the  Bull — 
Introduction  to  Gertrude  Kemble  and  Aunt  Adelaide 
(Mrs.  Sartoris)  at  Chorley's — Dinner  at  Aunt  A.'s — Dante 
Rossetti,  Frederick  Leighton,  Henry  Greville,  Virginia 
Gabriel — The  Dowager  Countess  of  Essex — Funereal 
Festivity — Opposition  to  Chorley's  Views — A  Contrast  to 
the  Countess  of  Essex  taken  in  . .  .  .  .  .      45 

CHAPTER  VI 
Mrs.  Fanny  Kemble  comes  on  the  Stage — My  Nerves  Agitated 
— "  Spikes  "—Taking  "  the  Bull  by  the  Horns  "—Tete- 
a-tetes — A  Nervous  Lady  Squashed — A  Promise  Redeemed 
— Osculation — A  Conceited  Old  Woman — Little  Tempers — 
A  Lovable  Old  Lady — Her  Admiration  of  Edmund  Kean — 
A  Pothouse  Richard — Old  Actors  who  were  Great — 
Artificiality  of  English  Tragedians — My  Brother-in-law — 
"  An  Eye  like  Mars  "—His  Doubts  about  my  "  Status  " — 
A  Prime  Haunch  of  Mutton — The  Tiger-slayer  in  Love — My 
Cousin's  Precocity — Effects  of  Nervousness — Always  an 
Old  Man — Effects  of  my  Dull  Company  .  .  . .      56 

CHAPTER  VII 
Adventures  on  Sea  and  Land — Stormy  Channel — Storms  in 
Teapots — Travelling  with  Babies — The  Merry  Swiss  Boy 
— A  Dismal  Drive — Pay  for  Experience — The  Utility  of 
Bargaining — A  Florentine  "  Curio  "  Dealer — A  Purveyor 
of  Peaches — A  Basket  to  Carry  them — A  Slump  in 
Umbrellas — All  for  Fun       .  .  . .  .  .  .  .  .  .      71 

CHAPTER  VIII 
Compact  with  Reeves  &  Co. — A  Swiss  Hotel — Different  Ideas 
of  Cleanliness — Excursion  to  Altdorf — Missed  the  Last 
Boat  back — Storms  (various)  Brewing — Fair  Weather — 
"  Robin  Hood  "  at  Her  Majesty's  Theatre — Emma's 
Devotion — A  Short  Life  and  a  Merry  one — Dinner  at 
Norwood — My  Ne\v  Hat      . .  .  .  . .  . .  . .      79 

CHAPTER  IX 
Intimacy  with  Reeves — His  Moderate  Habits — Contradiction 
from  Personal  Knowledge  of  Public  ''  Dictum  " — "  Judas 
Maccabaeus  "  at  Clifton — Winter  Garden,  Blackpool — 
Japanese  Tommy — Irish  Concert,  Exeter  Hall — "  Tam 
O'Shanter,"  St.  James's  Hall— A  "  Green  "  Tenor- 
Uncharitable  Accusation  of  Public  Characters — My  Own 
Case — A  Wife-beater  . .  . .  . .  •  .  .  .      88 


CONTENTS  XI 


CHAPTER   X 


My  Predilection  for  the  St.  Gothard  Pass — The  Motor  Car — 
My  Idea  of  Pleasurable  Locomotion — "Ballad  Concerts" — 
What  is  a  Ballad  ? — Erroneous  Idea  of  the  Term  "  Ex- 
pression " — Proposal  of  Engagement  for  English  Opera, 
1873,  fell  to  the  ground — Renewed  and  accepted,  1875, 
with  Carl  Rosa  at  Princess's  Theatre — Opening  "  Figaro" — 
Anonymous  Letter — Misunderstandings — ''  The  Siege  of 
Rochelle" — "The  Porter  of  Havre  " — Buckets  of  Tears — 
Success  as  an  Actor — "  The  Water  Carrier  " — Another 
Success — A  Cascade — Macfarren's  Opinion  of  Cherubini — 
"  On  Tour  " — Saddle  of  Mutton  and  "  Bookbinder's 
Paste  " — "  The  Bell,"  Leicester,  and  IMine  Host  Boyer. .     98 

CHAPTER    XI 

Boito's  "Mefistofele  "  at  Her  Majesty's  Theatre — Much  Noise 
and  Little  Music — Augustus  Harris  on  "  Instrumentation  " 
— Schira  on  "  the  Truth  " — Three  Acts  Sufficient — A 
Musical  Nation — Music  for  Young  People  .  .  ..118 

CHAPTER    XII 

I^yceum  Season,  1876 — "  The  Flying  Dutchman  " — Stormy 
Weather — The  Dutchman  without  a  Ship — Recovered  it 
after  Storm — Leaning  towards  Wagnerism — Discovered 
Mistake — Orchestra  Principal  Actor — "  Hullabaloo  " — 
Enigma  for  the  Reader  to  Unravel — "  Joconde  " — A 
Chapter  of  Accidents — "  Zampa  "  Revived — A  Benefit 
which  ended  in  Smoke — "Pauline "  my  Greatest  Failure — 
"  A  Bull  in  a  China  Shop  " — Yorkshire  Criticism — A  Glass 
of  Port — "Adonis  " — Buckstone's  Benefit,  Drury  Lane — 
Chas.  Kenney's  Benefit,  Gaiety — End  of  Theatrical  Career   123 

CHAPTER    XIII 

John  Henry  Agnew — Our  Trip  to  Italy — Doing  Florence — 
Pisa  under  Difficulties — British  Respect  for  Names — 
American  Indifference  of  Art — Aromatic  Venice — Feast 
of  St.  Mark — Goldoni  at  Home — Effects  of  Venetian 
Exhalations — Concert  for  Mario     . .  . .  .  .  .  .    138 

CHAPTER   XIV 

Voyage  to  New  York — Captain  Cook — Jam  Tarts — Purser 
and  Coal-bunk — Cunard  Courtesy — Divorces  Procured — 
American  Generositv — Sail  up  the  Hudson  River — Four 
Angels  without  Wings— Soft  Shell  Crabs  and  Whoffles. .    147 


Xll  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER    XV  PAGE 

Home,  Sweet  Home — Sketching — The  School  of  Art — An 
Obstinate  Nose — Drooping  Spirits — The  Bay  of  Biscay — 
An  Unsuccessful  Exhibitor   ..  ..  ..  ..  ..161 

CHAPTER    XVI 

Sketching  Abandoned  for  Music — Geo.  Macfarren  my  Master 
— A  Doctor  of  Music — Music  Defined — Composition — 
Trials — Marriages — Effects  of  a  Praise  Report — Voyage  to 
Malta — A  Persuasive  Admirer — A  Friendly  Guide — A 
Sermon  in  Arabic — The  Capuchin  Monastery — British 
Misplaced  Generosity  .  .  . .  .  .  . .  . .    169 

CHAPTER    XVII 

Change  in  Musical  Affairs — Resolution  to  try  New  Ground — 
Bound  to  Australia — An  Augury — A  Stormy  Time — The 
Bar — Amusements  on  Board — Concert — Fancy  Ball — For- 
bidden Food — A  Glance  at  Eastern  Customs — Lunch  at 
Ceylon— Pilots  179 

CHAPTER    XVHI 

Arrival  at  Adelaide — Interviewers — Reunion  at  the  Town 
Hall — Melbourne — Mutton  Chop  Diet — Hospitality — 
Government  Patronage        . .  . .  . .  . .  . .    1 96 

CHAPTER    XIX 

Arrival  at  Melbourne — Organist  and  Oculist — A  Teetotal 
Breakfast — Gout — Adelaide  Again — Musical  Festival — A 
Dealer  in  Shares — Return  to  Melbourne — "  Elijah  " — 
Sydney — A  Golden  Vision — Water  Parties — An  Orator — 
A  Lively  Hotel — A  French  Restaurant    . .  .  .  .  .    202 


CHAPTER    XX 


At  Melbourne — A  Lady  Visitor's  Request — A  Hebrew 
Visitor's  Modest  Demand — Lalla  Miranda — Voyage  to 
Brisbane  —  Storm  —  Jolly  Companions  —  A  Bullock 
Driver — Another  Lively  Hotel — An  Old  Acquaintance..    213 


CONTENTS  XIU 

CHAPTER    XXI  PAGE 

The  Organist  as  Artiste — Tlie  Oculist's  Pocket  Companion — 
Concerts  by  "  Particular  Desire  " — A  Pair  of  Old  Boots — 
The  Laughing  Jackass — Rockhampton  Criticism — Mount 
Morgan  Mine — Oculistic  Confidences  re  Amusements 
Bureau  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . .  .  .  .  .    223 


CHAPTER    XXH 

Sydney — Three  Performances  of  "  Elijah  " — Chorus  and 
Orchestra — Falling  Receipt  Barometer — Promise  to  Pay — 
Vagaries  of  Oculist — Elopement — Apprehension — Job's 
Comforter — Miscarriage  of  Justice — An  Efficient  Partner 
— Christmas  Day — Hot  Weather — Melbourne  to  Auckland 
— Adverse  Winds — A  Surgical  Conductor — A  Fortnight  at 
Dunedin — An  Anonymous  Letter — Defendant  in  an  Action 
— Away  with  Melancholy    . .  . .  . .  . .  . .    233 


CHAPTER    XXin 

Last  visit  to  Sydney — Hospitable  Friends — Lunch  with 
Cardinal  Moran — Melbourne  Again — Engagement  for 
Canada — The  Organist  on  my  Track — Broken  Hill — 
Dismal  Hotel — Farewell  Concert  at  Adelaide — Farewell 
to  Australia — Danger  attending  Polite  Attentions — Advice 
respecting  "  Curios  " — "  Tipping  "  . .  .  .  .  .    246 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

Cleopatra's  Needle — E.  L.  Blanchard — Visit  from  my  Enemy 
— Mount  of  Olives — Ride  to  Bethlehem — A  Boating 
Excursion — Back  to  London — Great  Changes     . .  .  .    257 


CHAPTER   XXV 

Emotion — Workmen — Instruction  and  Education — Obe- 
dience— Pachmann  on  America — Consolation — Another 
Job's  Comforter — Resolve  to  Turn  Teacher — An  Italian 
Criticism  . .  .  .  .  .  . .  .  .  . ,  .  .    265 


CHAPTER    XXVI 

At  the  Cape — Successful  Tour — Coach  to   Johannesburg — 
Nursing    a   Weighty   Boer — Dust   Storm — Maritzburg — 
Prorogation  of  Parliament — Zulu  Lady's  Ball  Dress — Acted 
on  my  Resolution — Art  of  Imparting  Knowledge — Manuel 
Garcia — Rage  for  Money -making — A  Great  Artiste       ,  .    275 


XIV  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER    XXVII  page 

Disappointment — Use  of  my  Name — Noise — Motors — Air- 
ship— Rome — A  Cigar  on  the  Pincio — ^HoHday-making — 
Contrast  between  Home  and  Foreign  Resorts — The  Arid 
Palm — Another  Visit  to  the  Cape — My  Friend  Sandy — 
Accompanists  and  Accompanying — "  Elijah  "  at  Maritz- 
burg — My  Last  Oratorio  at  Albert  Hall — Pauline  Viardot 
in  "  Elijah  " 286 

CHAPTER    XXVIII 

Anniversary  of  my  First  Public  Appearance — Depression — My 
Jubilee — Earl  of  Kilmorey 's  Spontaneous  Offer — A  Pleasant 
Surprise — Knighted — Congratulations  and  Mementoes — 
Mendelssohn's  Note-book,  1 832 — Conclusion       . .  . .    303 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


SIR  CHARLES  SANTLEY  .  .  FrofiHspiece 

facing 
page 

GAETANO   NAVA  ....  8 

LUIGI    LABLACHE                            .                     .                     .  .64 

CHARLES    FECHTER.  .                     .                     .                     .  70 

SIR   MICHAEL    COSTA                    .                     .                     .  .84 

J.    SIMS    REEVES  ....  88 

LAKE  OF  COMO  FROM  MENAGGio    [Painting    bv    John 

McWhirter,  R.A.)  .  .  .  .114 

JOHN    PARRY     .                .                           .                     .                     .  130 

THE   TOY    SYMPHONY                  .                     .                     .  .136 

MARIO                    .....  146 

MRS.    SANTLEY           .                     .                     .                     .  .       240 

MANUEL   GARCIA                 ....  280 

THE    EARL   OF    KILMOREY,    K.P.                 .                     .  .       304 
FACSIMILES    OF    PAGES    IN    MENDELSSOHN'S    NOTE-BOOK      312 


•  i »?  * 


Reminiscences    of  My    Life 


CHAPTER  I 

Nationality — Ancestry — An  Aunt's  Elopement — My  Uncle  Pro- 
prietor of  Harrow  Coach — Favourite  of  the  Boys — Slight 
Connection  with  Geordie  Stephenson — A  Herculean  Alto- 
soloist — First  Introduction  to  the  Theatre — Desire  to  Appear 
thereon — The  Invisible  Orchestra — "  Sea  "  v.  "  Stage  " — 
Puritanical  Objections  " — Macready. 

In  my  book,  Student  and  Singer,  I  gave  the  place 

and  date  of  my  birth,  but  I  did  not  give  any 

account  of  ''  who  I  am/'  and  ''  where  I  sprang 

from."     As    I    have   often   been   asked,    I   think 

I  cannot  do  better  than  tell  what  I  have  learned 

about  myself.     In  seeking  the  information,  I  had 

no   other  motive   than  to   satisfy    my    curiosity 

about  my  name  which,  when  a  boy,  I  disliked  very 

much,  and  often  wished  it  had  been  Smith,  or  any 

other  ordinary  appellation.     My  father  told  me 

it    was    originally    Sontley ;     that    an    ignorant 

ancestor    had     converted     it     phonetically    into 

Sauntley ;     the    "u"    having  been   subsequently 

eliminated  by  another  probably  equally  ignorant ; 

moreover,  that  a  large  district  with  a  manor-house, 

in  the  vicinity  of  Wrexham,  at  one  time  belonged 

to  the  family  and  bore  the  family  name.     I  let 

the  matter  rest  until  a  few  years  ago,  when  those 

who    are    curious    to    know    all    about    pubHc 

1 

I— (2286) 


'2^  REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

characters  began  to  make  enquiries  as  to  my 
nationality,  cognomen,  etc. 

I  have  been  taken  for  an  Irishman,  I  suppose 
because  I  acquired  a  *'  taste  of  the  brogue " 
during  the  five  years  of  my  apprenticeship,  those 
with  whom  I  came  in  contact  being  chiefly  Irish  ; 
I  have  been  taken  for  an  Italian  sometimes  ;  I  am 
told  by  the  natives  I  have  a  very  slight  foreign 
accent ;  and  I  was  once  taken  for  a  Dutchman, 
by  a  waiter  at  the  hotel  on  the  Furca. 

I  enquired  of  him  what  there  was  to  eat,  in  my 
German,  which  is  not  Al  ;  I  afterwards  found 
he  talked  English  well,  and  I  remonstrated  with 
him  for  not  talking  English  to  me,  on  which  he 
politely  told  me,  he  could  not  commit  such  a 
breach  of  etiquette  as  to  reply  in  any  other 
language  than  that  in  which  he  was  addressed. 
"Surely,"  I  said,  ''you  could  hear  I  was  a  foreigner 
by  my  accent."  *' Yes,"  he  replied;  ''but  I 
took  you  for  a  Hollander."  I  do  not  know  Dutch 
and  have  never  to  my  knowledge  heard  it  spoken, 
except  by  Mr.  Kriiger  and  General  Joubert,  when 
I  was  present  at  the  prorogation  of  Parliament 
at  Pretoria  in  1893.  Maybe,  some  similarity 
may  exist  between  my  *'  Irish-Liverpool "  and 
the  Dutch  accent,  which  would  account  for  the 
waiter's  mistake. 

In  my  search  for  ancestors  I  had  the  good 
luck  to  enlist  the  services  of  my  friend.  Sir  Alfred 
Scott-Gatty,  Garter  King-at-Arms,  who,  having 
all  the  records  at  his  command  in  the  Herald's 


GENEALOGY      *  3 

College,  undertook  to  find  out  who  I  was.  The 
search  extended  over  some  considerable  time, 
as  my  forefathers  during  the  eighteenth  century 
were  involved  in  a  cloud  of  mystery.  I  presume 
they  had  got  rid  of  their  patrimony  and  gone  to 
the  dogs ;  as  their  successors,  with  whom  I  was 
acquainted  in  my  early  years,  were  anything 
but  edifying  specimens  of  a  family  of  any 
importance. 

Some  details  regarding  my  immediate  ancestors 
being  required,  I  applied  to  my  father  for 
information  ;  his  reply  was  that  ''  he  knew  little 
about  them,  which  little  was  not  to  their  credit, 
and  he  had  no  desire  to  know  any  more.''  I 
have  mislaid  or  lost  the  genealogical  table  Sir 
Alfred  Scott-Gatty  sent  me,  and  all  I  remember 
of  it  is  that  it  was  headed  by  Earl  Tudor  Trevor  ; 
that  a  Sontley  was  Rector  of  Wrexham  Parish 
Church  about  1630 ;  that  my  ancestors  were 
Welsh,  and  until  somewhere  in  the  eighteenth 
century  lived  in  Wales,  when  they  removed  to 
Cheshire,  where  my  grandfather  was  born.  I 
confided  to  Sir  Alfred  Scott-Gatty  that  I  feared 
my  forefathers  must  have  been  a  bad  lot  to  have 
sunk  so  deep  in  the  mire.  ''  Oh  !  "  said  he,  *'  we 
find  many  cases  worse  than  theirs  ;  your  endeavour 
must  be  to  restore  the  name  which  distinguished 
your  early  ancestors."  As  I  have  already  said 
in  Student  and  Singer,  my  singing  qualities  I 
inherited  from  my  mother,  who,  as  well  as  her 
brothers  and  sisters,  had  a  charming  voice,  not 


4  REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

of  great  volume  but  very  sympathetic  in  quality. 
My  musical  qualities  I  had  ''  rubbed  in  "  with 
very  little  oil,  at  an  early  age  ;  they  ought  to  be 
worth  something,  for  they  cost  me  a  young 
Niagara  of  tears. 

A  sister  of  my  mother,  when  a  young  girl,  was 
leading  soprano  at  the  Parish  Church  of  St.  Peter, 
Liverpool.  One  evening,  leaving  the  church  after 
rehearsal,  she  tumbled  into  a  newly-opened  grave, 
from  which  she  was  rescued  by  a  gallant  young 
man  who  had  been  an  attentive  listener  during  the 
rehearsal.  He  insisted  on  seeing  my  aunt  home, 
and  thus  an  acquaintance  was  formed  which  soon 
ripened  into  mutual  affection.  My  grandparents 
would  not  consent  to  give  their  daughter  in  mar- 
riage to  a  man  of  whom  they  knew  little  or  nothing, 
so  the  young  people  took  the  ''  bull  by  the  horns  " 
and  eloped,  my  grandfather  chasing  them  not  far 
behind,  but  too  far  to  prevent  the  knot  being  tied. 
This  is  the  only  romantic  story  I  know  recorded 
in  the  family  archives.  I  was  called  Charles, 
after  the  hero,  by  my  mother's  desire,  which 
roused  from  sleep  the  "  green-eyed  monster " 
in  the  paternal  bosom.  Before  his  death,  my 
uncle  became  proprietor  of  the  coach  which  plied 
between  London  and  Pinner,  passing  through 
Harrow,  where  the  young  philosophers  used  occa- 
sionally to  amuse  themselves  by  stoning  the 
vehicle  and  frightening  the  passengers  out  of  their 
wits.  However,  they  always  paid  for  any  damage 
which    accrued,    although    they   could   not    offer 


LINK   WITH   GEORGE   STEPHENSON      5 

adequate  recompense  for  the  annoyance  and  fright 
they  caused  the  unfortunate  travellers. 

They  were  boys'  freaks,  in  which,  unpleasant 
as  they  proved  to  their  victims,  there  was  no 
feeling  of  malice  or  ill-nature.  My  uncle  was 
a  very  sympathetic,  good-natured  man,  and  was 
always  a  great  favourite  with  the  Harrow  boys, 
many  of  whom  showed  the  respect  in  which  they 
held  him  by  attending  his  funeral. 

The  following  may  be  interesting  to  some 
readers.  When  Stephenson  was  constructing  the 
railway  from  Liverpool  to  Manchester,  my 
grandfather,  bookseller  and  bookbinder  in  Berry 
Street,  Liverpool,  was  entrusted  by  the  great 
engineer  with  the  mounting  of  his  plans  on  stiff 
cardboard  ;  my  father  used  to  take  them  back 
to  the  ofhce,  so  both  became  acquainted  with 
Stephenson.  On  one  occasion,  when  he  was 
showing  my  grandfather  over  the  works  connected 
with  the  Olive  Mount  cutting,  they  were  examining 
some  portion  on  the  top  platform,  when  my 
grandfather  stepped  back  on  a  hole  in  the  wood- 
work, Stephenson  seized  him  by  the  arm,  pulled 
him  back,  and  so  saved  him  from  breaking  his 
neck. 

As  I  have  recorded,  I  commenced  my  career  as 
a  singer  when  I  was  about  six  years  of  age,  my 
efforts  being  confined  to  amusing  ''  visitors  to 
tea."  I  could  not  have  been  more  than  eight 
when  I  began  to  attend  the  performances  of  the 
''  Festival     Choral     Society,"    which,    with     the 


6  REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

exception  of  the  choral  numbers,  did  not  excite 
my  enthusiasm.  Sitting  on  a  hard  form,  not 
too  broad,  with  a  strip  of  glazed  calico  for  a 
cushion,  made  me  feel  more  as  though  I  were 
expiating  my  sins  than  taking  part  in  a  concert. 
The  principal  singers  provided  me  with  the  only 
alleviation  of  my  pains  ;  they  acted  as  soporifics, 
and  I  slumbered  peacefully  during  their  part  of 
the  performance.  There  was  one  exception,  a 
male  alto,  a  big,  full-chested  man,  whose 
appearance  gave  promise  of  the  voice  of  a  Jupiter 
Tonans.  When  he  started  to  hold  forth,  I  used 
to  open  my  eyes  to  gaze  with  wonder  on  the 
contortions  of  his  features,  and  my  ears  to  catch 
the  squeaky  sounds  which  issued  from  his 
Herculean  throat.  I  always  felt  a  mingling 
of  sorrow  and  shame  in  sympathy  with  what 
I  imagined  must  have  been  his  own  feeling  at 
having  to  make  such  an  exhibition.  Possibly 
I  had  no  reason,  he  may  have  enjoyed  himself; 
I  certainly  did  not. 

In  1849  I  heard  the  alto  solos  in  the  '*  Messiah  " 
sung  for  the  first  time  by  a  contralto,  Martha 
Williams,  afterwards  Mrs.  Lockey.  Although  the 
music  is  not  well  adapted  to  the  contralto  voice, 
notably  the  air,  *'  But  who  may  abide,"  with  the 
allegro  movement,  **For  He  is  like  a  refiner's 
fire," — which  at  the  Sacred  Harmonic  Society  and 
Handel  Festivals  at  the  Crystal  Palace  was  always 
entrusted  to  the  contralto, — the  substitution 
of  the  female  for  the  male  alto  I  found  a  decided 


STAGE-STRUCK  7 

improvement.  I  know  Macfarren  decided  that 
''  But  who  may  abide  "  was  intended  for  the  alto, 
but  I  find,  on  referring  to  the  facsimile  of  the 
original  score,  that  it  is  written  in  the  bass  clef 
in  ^8^  time  throughout,  including  ''  For  He 
is  like  a  refiner's  fire,"  etc.  It  is  quite  probable 
that  when  Handel  wrote  an  allegro  movement 
to  these  words  he  entrusted  the  song  to  an  alto, 
but  the  tessitura  is  unmistakably  bass. 

It  is  a  mistake,  in  my  opinion,  to  give  the  air 
''  But  Thou  didst  not  leave  "  in  the  same  oratorio 
to  the  tenor.  It  was  always  sung  by  a  soprano, 
and  I  never  heard  it  otherwise  until  Reeves  sang 
it  at  the  Sacred  Harmonic  performances.  The 
tessitura  of  the  song  is  not  tenor ;  certainly 
Mozart,  or  whoever  added  the  wind  accompani- 
ments to  it,  was  of  the  same  opinion.  At  the 
Handel  Festival,  held  in  Westminster  Abbey  in 
1834,  Mr.  Machin  (bass)  sang  ''  But  who  may 
abide,"  etc.,  and  Miss  Shirriff  (soprano)  ''  But 
Thou  didst  not  leave."  Sir  George  Smart 
conducted  the  festival,  and  as  he  had  the 
traditions  direct  from  Handel,  I  presume  the 
solo  music  was  allotted  to  the  voices  for  which 
it  was  intended  by  the  composer. 

My  first  introduction  to  the  stage  was  at  the 
amphitheatre,  when  little  more  than  three  years 
of  age.  I  have  somewhere  said  I  was  ''  stage- 
struck,"  but  after  upwards  of  seventy  years' 
experience  of  life,  I  can  truly  say  I  ''  fell  in  love  " 
with  the  stage,  and  my  love  has  been  constant 


8  REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

and  enduring ;  for,  in  spite  of  disappointments  and 
disenchantments  which  caused  me  to  give  up  my 
theatrical  career  thirty  years  ago,  I  love  it  still. 

My  ardent  desire  was  to  become  a  dramatic 
actor,  but  '*  there's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our 
ends,  rough-hew  them  how  we  will."  I  saw 
there  was  no  hope  of  ever  realizing  my  desire, 
so  providence  having  endowed  me  with  the 
'*  gift  of  song,"  I  chose  the  career  I  believed 
it  was  clearly  indicated  I  was  destined  to  pursue. 

Since  I  parted  company  with  the  opera,  the 
opera-house  does  not  often  attract  me ;  the 
works  I  was  nursed  on  and  took  part  in  have  in 
a  great  measure,  been  obliged  to  retire  in  favour 
of  others  which  suit  the  modern  taste  or  fashion  ; 
this  I  say  without  any  intention  of  comparing 
their  respective  merits ;  it  is  only  natural ; 
what  would  be  to  me  a  new  diet,  and  would 
probably  prove  indigestible,  is  the  diet  which  the 
present  generation  find  wholesome.  An  improve- 
ment (so-called)  which  has  been  made  of  late 
years,  is  the  banishment  of  the  orchestra  from 
the  place  it  occupied  formerly  to  a  space  under- 
neath the  stage.  I  hope  the  professors  find  it 
comfortable  and  convenient ;  the  change  robs 
me  of  half  my  pleasure. 

I  like  to  watch  the  players  in  the  orchestra 
at  intervals  when  the  interest  in  the  players  on 
the  stage  does  not  occupy  all  my  attention  ;  yet 
I  must  admit  that  on  one  or  two  occasions  I 
would   not   have   been   sorry   had   the   orchestra 


Photo  bv 


G.  B.  Ganiini.  Milan 


GAETAXO    XAVA 
(My   ^Master  in  Milan) 


SEA-STRUCK  9 

been  placed  outside  the  theatre  entirely ;  the 
perpetual  '*  tremolo  "  of  the  violins  and  *'  buzz  " 
of  the  reed  instruments  were  so  irritating  to  my 
nerves. 

I  have  also  said  I  had  a  violent  passion  for  the 
sea.  I  was  merely  ''  sea-struck/'  for  when  I 
learned  that  "  porter  and  skittles  "  were  chiefly 
conspicuous  by  their  absence  from  a  sailor's  life, 
my  passion  cooled  like  most  other  violent  passions. 
I  had  ample  opportunity  of  inspecting  the 
accommodation  (?)  the  forecastle  afforded  the 
hardy  seamen  who  braved  the  dangers  of  the 
deep  to  earn  a  scanty  living,  whilst  helping  to 
provide  the  pampered  landsman  with  food, 
raiment,  and  luxuries.  Saving  sufficient  to  eat 
a  crust  in  his  old  age  was  out  of  the  question.  If 
he  escaped  drowning  or  making  a  toothsome 
meal  for  a  shark,  he  had  to  end  his  days  in  the 
workhouse,  where  consideration  for  age  and 
infirmity  was  not  as  plentiful  as  it  is  in  most 
of  our  workhouses  now. 

Two  sights  I  remember  had  a  great  effect  in 
stifling  my  sea-going  passion.  A  sugar-laden 
ship  lay  in  the  middle  of  one  of  the  old  docks 
waiting  for  a  berth  to  discharge  her  cargo  ;  for 
yards  round  her  hull  there  was  a  belt  of  big,  fat, 
red  cockroaches  struggling  for  life  ;  later,  I  saw 
the  discharged  cargo  being  stored  in  a  warehouse 
close  by  the  dock  ;  the  carts  which  transported 
the  sugar  to  the  warehouse  were  literally 
swarming   with   the   loathsome    ''  beasties/'    and 


10        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

I  found  out  that  the  whole  ship  had  been  infested 
with  them  throughout  her  voyage  from  the  West 
Indies — hammocks,  bunks,  pantry,  every  nook  and 
corner.     This  served  as  a  strong  moral  antidote. 

The  other  sight  was  a  ship  laden  with  pine- 
apples in  bulk,  also  lying  in  the  dock  waiting  for 
a  berth  ;  she  was  surrounded  by  an  army  of  rats 
which  had  enjoyed  a  free  passage  and  plenty  of 
food,  and  were  now  striving  to  escape  a  watery 
grave,  having  been  driven  from  their  comfortable 
quarters  by  the  preparations  made  for  discharging 
the  ship.  My  idea  of  *'  a  life  on  the  ocean  wave  '' 
was  ''  the  blue  above  and  the  blue  below,"  and 
*'  dancing  dolphins  sparkling  in  the  brine "  ; 
an  occasional  ''  capful  "  of  wind  would  not  have 
troubled  me  ;  but  when  it  became  a  question  of 
cockroaches  of  gigantic  dimensions,  red  or  black, 
or  swarms  of  rats  for  bedfellows,  I  made  up  my 
mind  that  *'  a  sailor's  life  was  not  the  life  for  me.'' 

I  flew  back  to  the  embrace  of  my  own  true 
love,  resolved  never  again  to  swerve  from  my 
allegiance  to  her.  I  can  say  with  truth  that  1 
have  been  a  faithful  swain,  yet  I  make  no  boast 
of  it,  for  she  merited  devotion  far  beyond  any 
I  have  ever  been  able  to  bestow  on  her,  not  from 
lack  of  affection  or  perseverance,  but  owing  to 
circumstances  over  which  I  had  no  control. 

First  I  had  to  combat  the  puritanical  ideas 
which  pervaded,  and,  to  a  certain  extent,  still 
pervade  all  classes  in  England.  My  father  had 
a  strong  objection  to  my  going  to  the  theatre, 


M  ACRE  AD  Y  11 

though  he  used  to  descant  in  glowing  terms  on 
the  wonderful  performances  he  had  himself 
witnessed^  especially  those  of  Edmund  Kean ; 
and  often  of  an  evening,  when  the  family  circle 
was  gathered  round  the  hearth,  he  would  read 
us  one,  or  a  part  of  one,  of  Shakespeare's  plays. 
He  never  objected  to  my  reading  them  when  I 
had  prepared  my  lessons,  and  so  I  became 
intimately  acquainted  with  them  early  in  life, 
but  it  was  only  by  begging  and  praying  that  at 
last  he  relented  and  took  me  to  see  Macready  in 
*'  Hamlet."  Absurd  as  it  may  appear,  for  I 
was  only  eleven  or  twelve  years  of  age,  I  was 
disappointed.  I  knew  the  play  well,  and  the 
actor  did  not  satisfy  my  idea  of  the  personage 
he  represented.  I  saw  Macready  after  in 
''  Richelieu"  :  that  was  a  performance  never  to  be 
forgotten  ;   it  was  superb  ! 

Alfred  Mellon  told  me  a  very  amusing  anecdote 
of  Macready,  a  propos  of  his  irritability  when 
engaged  in  a  performance.  He  was  playing 
Macbeth  one  night  at  the  Theatre  Royal,  Liverpool, 
during  a  starring  engagement. 

When  the  bell  rang  for  the  second  act,  the 
call-boy,  who  was  an  Irish  lad,  gifted  with  the 
ready  wit  of  his  countrymen,  entered  the  great 
actor's  room  to  tell  him  the  curtain  was  about 
to  rise,  and  placed  on  the  table  the  dagger  used 
in  the  first  scene.  Macready  called  out  in  a  gruff 
voice  as  the  boy  was  disappearing,  "What  is  that, 
sir  ?  "     *'  That's  the  dagger,  sir,"  the  boy  replied. 


12        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

*'  Take  it  away,  sir,  and  bring  me  another/'  said 
Macready.  "  Very  sorry/'  said  the  boy,  ''  but 
we  have  no  other."  ''Take  it  away!"  shouted 
the  actor,  ''  I  must  have  a  better."  ''  But  we 
haven't  got  a  better,  sir,"  rephed  the  young  joker. 
'*  That's  a  very  good  dagger,  sir  ;  it's  the  one 
Mr.  Kean  used,  and — with  a  snigger — he  wasn't 
a  bad  actor,  sir  !  " 

Then  I  saw  Macbeth  played  by  a  renowned 
actor  in  a  manner  which  caused  me  to  grieve  ; 
I  found  my  favourite  tragedy  converted  into  a 
long,  dull  farce  ;  and  my  drooping  spirits  were 
only  revived  by  the  short,  sparkling  farce  which 
followed  it,  entitled,  I  think,  ''  The  Married 
Bachelor,"  the  principal  character  being  played 
by  James  Browne,  one  of  the  finest  comedians 
England  ever  produced.  I  have  seen  various 
representations  of  *'  Macbeth  "  since,  but  I  never 
saw  the  tragedy  played  but  once,  that  was  at  the 
Odeon,  in  Paris,  somewhere  in  the  sixties. 

My  theatrical  treats  were  not  as  numerous  as 
I  would  have  liked,  but  I  certainly  made  the 
most  of  them,  I  did  not  leave  a  bone  unpicked. 
There  was  Jack  Sheppard,  played  by  Henry 
Beverley,  a  brother  of  the  famous  scene-painter, 
and,  better  still,  Charley  Mathews  (whose  birth- 
place at  the  corner  of  Basnett  Street,  opposite 
the  old  Theatre  Royal,  Liverpool,  I  never  pass 
without  a  mixed  sigh  of  pleasure  and  regret) 
and  Mrs.  Frank  Mathews  in  ''  Little  Toddlekins," 
**  Used     up/'     '*  Cool     as     a     Cucumber/'    etc., 


"HOME,   SWEET   HOME"  13 

Buckstone  and  Mrs.  Fitzwilliam,  John  Vandenhoff 
in  "  Cato/'  Barry  Sullivan,  Emmeline  Montagu, 
afterwards  Mrs.  Henry  Compton,  and  many  others 
of  the  stock  company  of  the  Theatre  Royal,  all 
admirable  actors.  At  a  benefit  performance  given 
at  this  theatre  I  had  the  happiness  of  seeing  one 
of  the  great  actresses  of  my  time,  Charlotte 
Cushman,  as  Meg  Merrilies,  in  the  dramatic 
version  of  ''  Guy  Mannering  "  ;  it  was  a  great 
impersonation,  and  I  always  regret  that  I  never 
had  the  opportunity  of  seeing  her  in  any  other 
characters.  Her  sister  Susan  married  Dr.  Sheridan 
Muspratt,  the  celebrated  disciple  of  the  great 
chemist,  Liebig. 

A  propos  of  this  performance  of  ''  Guy  Manner- 
ing," I  always  wish  the  tragic  prima  donnas  who 
have  favoured  us  with  ''  Home,  Sweet  Home  "  of 
late  years  as  an  encore,  could  have  heard  Annie 
Romer  sing  it,  as  I  heard  her  sing  it  that  night 
and  on  many  subsequent  occasions.  It  was  a 
delightful  realization  of  ''  the  art  of  vocal 
declamation." 

A  strange  friendship  sprung  up  between  the 
doctor  and  me.  He  used  frequently  to  lecture 
at  the  Liverpool  Institute  whilst  I  was  a  pupil, 
but  he  never  spoke  to  me.  Soon  after  I  started 
my  career  as  an  operatic  singer  our  acquaintance 
began  by  his  sending  me  an  invitation  to  dinner, 
which  I ,  unfortunately,  could  not  accept .  We  never 
met ;  our  friendship  was  entirely  carried  on  by 
correspondence,  which  lasted  as  long  as  he  lived. 


CHAPTER  II 

My  First  Opera — Male  Soprano — Tamberlik's  high  C  sharp — 
Devilshoof — Low  Comedians — Sims  Reeves  in  Opera — Pyne 
and  Harrison  EngHsh  Opera  Company — An  Angel  in  Blue 
and  White — Weiss's  First  Appearance  in  London — Our 
Acquaintance — "  II  Trovatore  "  at  Astley's — Gassier's  Larks 
— Harry  Corri — An  Aspiring  Baritone — Work  and  Musical 
Studies. 

I  WAS  about  thirteen  when  I  saw  my  first  opera, 
the  evergreen  *'  Bohemian  Girl/'  the  part  of  the 
protagonist  being  sustained  by  its  original 
representative,  Bessie  Rainforth,  who  sang  very 
well,  but  without  any  dramatic  warmth,  so  failed 
to  produce  a  spark  of  enthusiasm  under  my 
juvenile  waistcoat.  Her  ''  lachrymose  parent '' 
was  played  by  the  Devilshoof  in  the  original 
caste,  and  I  only  remember  him  by  ''  the 
dejected  haviour  of  his  visage,"  and  my  impression 
that  age  had  deprived  him  of  his  teeth,  his  version 
of  ''  The  heart  bow'd  down  "  being  ''  M-n-e  a-at 
mow,  wow."  Of  the  tenor,  I  can  only  recall  a 
dreadful  sound  he  emitted  at  the  close  of  ''  When 
other  lips,"  which  appeared  to  issue  from  an 
orifice,  several  sizes  too  small  for  its  free  passage, 
in  the  crown  of  his  head.  It  gave  me  such  a  shock 
that  I  shot  down  under  the  benches  and  remained 
there  until  I  felt  sure  there  were  no  little  bits  of 
the  remains  floating  about  in  the  atmosphere. 
I  have  heard  nothing  like  it,  except  when  some 
of  our  modern  tenors  will  insist  upon  exposing  in 

14 


TAMBERLIK'S   HIGH   C  SHARP        15 

public  their  ''high  chest  C's " ;  but  I  do  not 
tremble  now,  as  I  know  it  is  all  in  play,  and  they 
have  no  intention  of  inflicting  bodily  injury. 

Something  similar  was  the  effect  on  my  nervous 
system  when  I  heard  a  few  years  ago  in  Rome 
one  of  those  dreadful  creatures,  a  ''  male  soprano  "  ; 
each  time  he  ''  scooped  "  a  high  note  I  was  fain 
to  groan  with  internal  pain.  I  do  not  mind  a 
fit  of  the  ''  jumps  "  if  it  is  produced  in  the  right 
way,  as,  for  instance,  Tamberlik,  in  Rossini's 
''  Othello,"  when  he  gave  his  high  C  sharp 
(mind,  C  sharpy  my  young  friends),  it  was  a 
clear,  ringing,  full-bodied  note,  that  had  never 
suffered  from  even  a  touch  of  measles  ;  it  gave 
you  the  jumps,  but  to  jump  over  the  benches  and 
give  the  singer  a  hearty  hug,  not  to  dive  down 
under  the  benches  to  avoid  any  danger  from 
chips  flying  about. 

Devilshoof  was  impersonated  by  Thomas  Bishop, 
a  cousin  of  Sir  Henry  (the  most  charming  of 
English  composers).  He  played  the  part  very 
well,  as  he  w^as  a  good  actor,  but,  I  fancy,  being  a 
tenor,  he  could  not  have  done  full  justice  to  his 
music.  It  is  a  favourite  part  with  English 
basses,  but  I  have  never  seen  it  artistically  played, 
except  by  Vialetti  (a  Southern  Frenchman),  who 
was  the  Devilshoof  when  the  opera  was  mounted 
in  Itahan  in  1857  for  Piccolomini  with  Giuglini 
and  Belle tti,  and  again  in  1863,  when  it  was  given 
with  Louisa  Pyne,  Giuglini,  and  myself  at  Her 
Majesty's     Theatre.      His     dehneation     of     the 


16        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

character  was  genuine  ''  low  comedy,"  to  which 
our  ''  home-made  ''  low  comedians  seem,  as  a  rule, 
to  find  difficulty  in  confining  themselves  ;  they 
invariably  turn  the  opening  of  the  last  act  into 
a  comic  scene  of  a  pantomime. 

My  impression  of  the  opera  itself  was  limited 
to  the  Gipsy  chorus  ;  it  took  such  hold  on  my 
youthful  soul  that  for  some  time  I  lived  on  it, 
I  could  think  of  nothing  else,  it  was  my  delight,  and 
at  the  same  time  my  torment,  for  though  the 
melody  was  constantly  playing  in  my  ears,  to  my 
intense  vexation  I  could  not  solace  myself  by 
humming  a  single  bar  of  it. 

My  visits  to  the  theatre  were  after  this  confined 
almost  entirely  to  operatic  performances.  I  did 
not  encounter  the  same  difficulty  with  music  as 
I  did  with  the  drama  ;  the  puritanical  rigidity, 
probably  like  the  savage  breast,  melted  under  the 
soothing  influence  of  music.  I  did  not  pause  to 
enquire ;  the  barrier  was  shaken  to  a  certain 
extent,  I  could  pay  more  frequent  visits  to  the 
theatre  without  going  through  the  labours  of 
Hercules  to  obtain  permission  (and  the  necessary 
sixpences  for  admission),  so  I  took  advantage  of 
the  change  and  heartily  thanked  my  stars  for 
having  procured  it. 

We  used  to  have  some  very  good  performances 
of  both  Italian  and  English  opera  at  the  Theatre 
Royal.  The  year  after  I  heard  Reeves  at  the 
Rhuddlan  Eisteddfod  he  came  to  Liverpool  with 
Miss   Emma   Lucombe,    Miss   Lanza,    Delavanti, 


SIMS   REEVES'S   ENERGY  17 

Whit  worth,  and  Fred  Horncastle.  I  heard  them 
in  '*  The  Somnambula."  After  the  opera,  Reeves 
played  the  last  scene  of  ''  Lucia  di  Lammermoor," 
a  stiff  night's  work  for  a  tenor  who  was  singing  an 
opera  every  night  in  the  week  ;  it  could  only  have 
been  done,  as  Reeves  did  it,  by  one  who  was  a 
master  of  his  art. 

Louisa  Pyne  and  Harrison,  with  a  very  good 
company  and  an  excellent  conductor,  Lavenu, 
used  to  visit  Liverpool  every  year  for  a  season 
of  two  or  three  weeks  ;  the  band  was  increased 
on  those  occasions,  so  I  had  the  felicity  of  hearing 
some  very  good  performances.  Tb.ey  were  not 
many,  for  I  was  not  endowed  with  worldly  wealth  ; 
I  could  only  afford  an  occasional  visit  to  the 
gallery,  when  I  could  ''  raise  the  wind  "  to  the 
tune  of  sixpence.  I  used  to  wait  for  about  half- 
an-hour  at  the  outer  door,  and  another  half -hour 
at  the  inner,  and  yet  another  half -hour  when  I  had 
secured  a  front  place,  before  the  opera  commenced. 
How  things  change  !  I  do  not  care  now  to  go  to 
the  theatre  unless  a  friendly  manager  provides 
me  with  a  comfortable  stall  or  box  which  I  can 
occupy  at  my  leisure,  though  I  make  a  point  of 
being  seated  at  least  some  minutes  before  the 
curtain  rises. 

In  those  days  my  attention  never  flagged  for  a 
moment  throughout  the  performance.  I  heard 
some  dehghtful  music  :  Auber's  ''  Crown  Jewels," 
Wallace's  ''  Maritana,"  Balfe's  pretty  opera,  ''  The 
Enchantress,"  in  which  Louisa  Pyne  enchanted  me 

2— (2286) 


18        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

to  the  extent  of  beatifying  my  night's  rest  with  the 
vision  of  an  angehc  boy,  clothed  in  an  ethereal  blue 
jerkin  and  white  silk  tights.  I  related  my  dream 
to  her  when  years  after  I  was  a  member  of  the  Pyne 
and  Harrison  Company  at  Covent  Garden,  and, 
strange  to  say,  the  fair  Louisa  did  not  seem  at  all 
annoyed.  Her  voice  was  not  powerful,  but  it 
possessed  that  rare  sympathetic  quality  which, 
developed  by  serious  study  of  the  ''  art  of  singing,'' 
gave  it  the  power  of  expansion  that  carried  every 
tone,  soft  or  loud,  to  all  parts  of  the  theatre. 
She  was  not  a  great  actress,  but  in  such  operas 
as  those  I  have  mentioned  she  was  elegant, 
vivacious,  and  attractive.  Her  sister,  Susan,  was 
a  very  useful  member  of  the  company. 

William  Harrison,  the  manager  of  the  company, 
and  leading  tenor,  must  have  been  to  some  extent 
a  victim  to  the  puritanical  disorder,  for  his  mother, 
who  lived  to  a  great  age,  could  never  be  induced 
to  enter  a  theatre  even  to  hear  her  son,  to  whom 
she  was  devotedly  attached.  I  never  heard  how 
he  cleared  the  puritan  fence  and  became  a  free 
agent ;  he  was  a  great  favourite  with  the  public 
from  the  beginning  of  his  career,  notably  as 
Thaddeus  in  "  The  Bohemian  Girl,"  written 
expressly  for  him.  He  had  a  fine  voice,  but 
whether  from  some  organic  defect  or  defective 
teaching,  the  tone  was  decidedly  nasal,  growing 
more  decided  as  time  passed  on.  I  am  convinced 
now  that  he  suffered  from  adenoids  (of  which 
we  heard  nothing  in  those  days),  as  his  musical 


WILLIAM   HARRISON  19 

ear  was  also  defective  ;  at  times,  probably  from 
the  influence  of  damp  weather  or  our  favourite 
east  wind,  painfully  so.  I  remember  one  night 
when  he  was  singing  Brinley  Richards' s  song, 
*'  Oh,  whisper  what  thou  feelest,"  which  he 
introduced  into  one  of  the  operas,  he  got  so  flat 
that  when  a  few  of  his  admirers  tried  to  raise  an 
''  encore,"  I  tried  to  hush  them  down  ;  one  of 
them  seated  by  me  threatened  to  have  me  ejected 
if  I  continued. 

I  told  the  gentleman  I  had  as  much  right  to 
my  opinion  as  he  had  to  his,  and  also  to  express 
it  in  the  only  possible  way;  besides,  I  added, 
I  did  not  pay  my  money  to  have  my  ears  set 
tingling.  Despite  these  defects  he  was  a  good 
artiste.  His  best  part  was  Don  Ccesar  de 
Bazan ;  occasionally,  his  deportment  was 
scarcely  what  might  be  expected  in  a  Spanish 
grandee,  but  he  was  earnest  and  animated,  and 
sang  the  music,  which  fitted  him  like  a  glove,  to 
perfection.  He  was  never  a  favourite  with  the 
Dublin  pubUc.  After  ''  The  Rose  of  Castille " 
had  been  played  at  Her  Majesty's  Theatre  for  one 
of  the  entertainments  during  the  festivities 
organized  to  honour  the  celebration  of  the 
marriage  of  H.R.H.  the  Princess  Royal  and 
Prince  Frederick,  it  was  given  at  the  Theatre 
Royal,  Dublin,  announced  ''  as  played  before 
Her  Majesty,  H.R.H.  the  Prince  Consort,  and 
suite,  at  the  recent  festivities,"  etc.  When 
Harrison  had  finished  his  song,  ''  'Twas  rank  and 


20        REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

fame/'  there  was  not  a  sound  of  applause,  and  a 
voice  called  out  from  the  gallery,  ''  And  was  that 
the  way  ye  sung  it  for  the  Queen  ? "  His 
managerial  peculiarities  and  my  managed-erial 
ones  never  coincided  ;  each  season,  after  about 
the  first  fortnight,  we  glared  at  each  other  as  we 
passed  on  the  stage  without  recognition  on  either 
side,  like  a  pair  of  Vincent  Crummleses,  only  he 
had  the  advantage  :  being  of  superior  height  he 
could  look  down  on  me,  and  being  of  much  superior 
weight,  could  have  crushed  me  into  jelly  had  he 
fallen  on  me.  Had  we  been  sensible,  and  studied 
each  other's  peculiarities,  we  might  have  avoided 
all  hatred,  malice,  and  uncharitableness.  Thank 
goodness  !  after  he  gave  up  management  until 
his  death  not  a  cloud  ever  shadowed  our 
friendship. 

The  principal  basses  were  Weiss  one  season 
and  Borrani  another.  Willoughby  Weiss,  a 
Liverpudlian,  was  son  of  a  music-seller  and 
publisher  in  Church  Street.  He  was  a  fine, 
handsome  fellow,  about  six  foot  two  in  height, 
slim  in  his  youth  ;  Chorley,  in  the  AihencBum, 
writing  of  Adelaide  Sartoris's  appearance  in  an 
English  version  of  "Norma"  at  the  Princess's 
Theatre  here  in  London,  thus  mentioned  him  : 
''  The  Oreveso  was  a  young  bass  named  Weiss,  from 
Liverpool ;  he  sang  well  and  looked  like  a 
giraffe."  Weiss' s  own  account  of  his  first 
appearance,  which  I  had  from  himself,  was  more 
amusing,  at  least  to  his  audience.     On  his  first 


BORRANI  21 

entry  he  had  to  cross  a  ground-piece  on  the  stage 
which — being  very  shortsighted — he  did  not  see  ; 
he  tripped  over  it  and  went  flat  on  his  face  head 
foremost  down  to  the  foothghts,  to  the  amazement 
and  amusement  of  the  spectators,  who  were  not 
prepared  for  such  an  acrobatic  performance 
from  a  Druidical  high  priest. 

When  first  we  met  he  took  me  for  some  cheeky 
young  upstart,  bent  on  usurping  his  well-merited 
position  as  the  leading  basso  of  his  time,  but  the 
little  ruffle  his  suspicions  aroused  was  soon 
smoothed  down  when  we  were  engaged  together 
in  the  Pyne  and  Harrison  Company,  and  each 
had  a  part  in  the  same  opera.  He  died  at  a  very 
early  age. 

Borrani  was  the  son  of  a  Dr.  Borragan,  of 
Birmingham ;  he  had  studied  in  Italy,  from 
whence  he  imported  his  professional  name.  He 
had  a  fine  voice,  rather  limited  in  compass  ;  he 
sang  well  and  was  a  really  good  actor.  He  had 
great  facility  of  execution,  which  he  displayed 
to  an  immoderate  extent ;  the  orchestral  players 
used  to  declare  they  could  go  out  of  the  theatre 
at  the  commencement  of  one  of  his  cadences, 
partake  of  a  sandwich  and  a  glass  of  beer,  and 
return  to  their  desks  in  time  to  play  the  last 
chords  of  his  song.  I  never  knew  him  personally  ; 
the  last  appearance  for  which  I  saw  his  name 
announced  was  in  an  ''  equestrian  "  performance 
of  ''  The  Trovatore,"  music  by  Verdi,  horses  of 
course  by  Lord  Sanger,  at  Astley's,  in  conjunction 


22        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

with  Augustus  Braham,  second  son  of  Reeves's 
celebrated  predecessor. 

My  old  comrade  at  Her  Majesty's  Theatre, 
Louis  Gassier,  told  me  of  an  equestrian  adventure 
he  had  in  the  same  opera  at  the  Birmingham 
Theatre  whilst  on  a  tour  with  Willert  Beale. 
The  pantomime  was  in  preparation,  and  a  number 
of  hobby  horses  required  in  one  of  the  scenes 
were  lying  at  the  back  of  the  stage.  Louis  could 
never  resist  a  ''  lark,"  so  he  mounted  one  of  the 
steeds  and  was  prancing  about  behind  when  he 
was  suddenly  called  on  to  make  his  appearance 
in  front ;  he  could  not  disengage  himself  from 
the  saddle  ;  on  he  dashed,  mounted,  and  went 
through  the  scene  with  as  much  assurance  as 
Charley  Mathews  in  *'  Cool  as  a  Cucumber," 
the  audience  evidently  satisfied  that  the  steed 
formed  an  integral  part  of  the  representation. 

Another  member  of  the  Pyne-Harrison  Com- 
any  was  Henry  Corri,  always  known  among 
his  friends  and  comrades  as  Harry  Corri.  He 
was  the  second  of  three  sons  of  a  professor  of 
music  in  Dublin,  I  believe,  all  three  bass  singers. 
The  eldest,  known  only  as  Pat,  was  a  member 
of  the  stock  company  in  Liverpool — I  saw  him 
in  the  performance  of  ''Guy  Mannering,"  with 
Charlotte  Cushman,  of  whom  I  have  already 
spoken  ;  he  played  the  gipsy,  Gabriel ,  introducing 
Shield's  song,  ''  The  Wolf,"  which  he  sang 
admirably.  The  youngest  son,  Eugene,  was  a 
member  of  the  Pyne  and  Harrison  Company  at 


HENRY   CORRI  23 

Co  vent  Garden  in  my  time.  He  was  a  fair  actor, 
but  not  much  of  a  singer  ;  he  was  chiefly  remark- 
able for  his  brogue,  which  certainly  was  thick 
enough  to  ''  cut  with  a  knife/'  Harry  was  the 
clever  one  ;  he  was  a  tall,  wiry,  good-looking 
fellow,  brimful  of  good  nature  and  anecdote. 
His  voice  was  a  fine  baritone  of  great  power  and 
extensive  range,  and  he  possessed  uncommon 
abilities  both  as  singer  and  actor ;  had  fortune 
provided  him  with  the  means  of  cultivating  them 
early  in  life,  he  would  assuredly  have  become 
one  of  the  greatest  artistes  of  his  day. 

As  it  was,  there  were  some  of  his  performances 
that  I  have  witnessed  which  could  not  have  been 
surpassed  here  or  abroad  ;  one  was  unique,  the 
porter  of  the  convent,  in  Auber's  ''  Black 
Domino,"  produced  during  the  short  reign  of  ''The 
English  Opera  Company,  Limited,"  at  Covent 
Garden,  with  Louisa  Pyne  in  the  character  of 
Angela.  As  he  was  never  thrust,  and  certainly 
never  thrust  himself  forward,  it  is  probable  few 
of  my  readers  will  even  remember  his  name ; 
but  those  who  were  intimate  with  him  and  worked 
with  him  will  never  forget  him !  One  of  his 
anecdotes  I  can  relate  (they  were  not  all  intended 
for  publication).  He  was  going  home  one  night 
from  the  Haymarket  Theatre,  where  the 
performances  used  to  consist  in  those  days  of 
three,  and  at  times  four,  pieces.  Going  down 
Waterloo  Road  he  heard  sounds  of  revelry ;  there 
was  nobody  in   the  road   except   himself,   there 


24        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

were  no  lights  in  the  windows,  nothing  to  give 
a  clue  to  the  source  from  whence  the  joyous 
sounds  proceeded.  At  length  his  attention  was 
attracted  by  a  most  singular  shadow  of  a  lamp- post 
he  was  approaching.  As  he  drew  nearer  he 
became  aware  that  the  sounds  came  from  over- 
head, and  looking  up,  to  his  astonishment  he 
discovered  the  singer  was  a  highly  convivial 
member  of  the  profession,  who,  in  his  enthusiasm 
for  Handel,  had  'swarmed  up  the  lamp-post  and 
was  executing  a  portion  of  the  duet  in  ''  Israel 
in  Egypt,"  '*  The  Lord  is  a  man  of  war,"  at  the 
top  of  his  voice,  clinging  to  the  bar  on  which  the 
lamplighters  used  to  rest  their  ladders. 

I  had  very  little  time  at  my  disposal  to 
prosecute  my  musical  studies,  as  my  ofhce  hours 
were  9  a.m.  to  6  p.m.,  with  an  hour,  from  12  to  1, 
for  dinner,  subject  to  expansion  ;  during  a  press 
of  business,  eight  or  nine  o'clock  struck,  and  even 
beyond  that,  before  I  was  relieved  from  the  toils 
of  the  day. 

I  was  not  fond  of  early  rising,  but  my 
enthusiasm  in  the  musical  cause  made  me  turn 
out  in  time  to  have  half -an -hour's  fiddling  before 
I  left  home  in  the  morning,  and  during  the 
dinner  hour  I  generally  succeeded  in  devoting 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  practising  my  voice.  I 
met  with  little  encouragement ;  my  father 
upbraided  me  with  paying  more  attention  to 
*'  notes  "  than  to  business. 

It  is  true  that  my  mind  was  more  occupied 


A   DISTASTE   FOR   BUSINESS  25 

with  music  than  anything  else,  but  I  never 
neglected  my  work,  I  did  my  duty,  and  a  great 
deal  more  than  my  duty,  conscientiously.  I 
believe  I  never  hated  anybody  or  anything  except 
liars,  and  their  father,  the  devil,  but  I  thoroughly 
disliked  everything  connected  with  business ;  for 
me  it  had  not  a  single  attractive  phase.  Buying 
I  had  nothing  to  do  with,  selling  appeared  to  be 
merely  haggling  over  trifles,  and  office  work,  dull 
routine  that  any  ordinary  boy  might  master  in 
a  few  weeks. 

This  portion  of  my  early  history  I  omitted  in 
Student  and  Singer ^  against  my  own  conviction, 
in  deference  to  what  I  felt  bound  to  consider 
superior  judgment.  I  concluded  that  volume  with 
the  season  of  Italian  Opera  at  the  Academy,  New 
York.  I  then  resolved  to  quit  the  stage  and  confine 
myself  to  oratorio  and  concert  singing.  But 
*'  Vhomme  propose  et  Dieu  dispose  "  ;  there  was 
still  another  operatic  trial  in  store  for  me,  of  which 
I  will  speak  in  its  place. 


CHAPTER  III 

Nervous  Temperament — Criticisms.  Serious  and  Amusing — 
Professional  Tour  in  1872 — An  Eccentric  Accompanist — An 
Oblivious  Agent- — John  Boosey — His  Hospitality  and  Piping 
Bullfinch. 

On  my  return  to  England  I  had  a  great  deal 
of  work  to  do  in  London,  and  still  more  in  the 
provinces,  more  than  I  ought  to  have  done  at 
times.  I  found  that  my  chronic  (as  I  believed) 
nervousness  was  increasing,  without  any  cause 
that  I  could  discover.  I  lived  simply,  seldom 
indulging  in  society  dinners  or  other  entertain- 
ments, and  always  arranging  to  have  a  good 
holiday  in  the  summer,  generally  spent  at 
Baveno,  on  the  Lago  Maggiore,  a  place  little 
frequented  at  that  time  in  the  months  of  July 
and  August.  We  were  generally,  my  wife  and 
children  with  two  friends,  the  only  occupants 
of  the  Hotel  Beau  Rivage. 

My  greatest  trouble  was  that,  when  occasionally 
I  was  out  of  voice,  the  fact  was  carefully  noted 
in  the  press  and  reported  to  me  by  candid  (candied 
would  be  better,  as  the  coating  of  sugar  removed, 
there  remained  only  an  insipid  lump)  well-wishers 
and  friends.  I  never,  except  on  a  few  occasions, 
read  anything  about  myself  which  appeared  in 
print.  Once,  by  accident,  I  read  in  a  Melbourne 
paper,    among    a    number    of    short    notes    on 

26 


CRITICS   AND   CRITICISM  27 

notabilities,  that  ''  Mr.  Santley  does  not  care  to 
read  criticisms  on  his  performances,  as  he  does 
not  Hke  to  be  told  of  his  shortcomings/*  Not 
the  exact  words,  but  the  substance  of  the  note. 
This  is  not  true  ;  I  do  not  take  offence  at  remarks 
made  in  a  proper  spirit,  however  deep  they  cut ; 
but  I  do  resent  ill-natured  criticism  of  my  work 
while,  in  the  same  article,  I  find  incompetency 
held  up  to  admiration ;  indiscriminate  praise 
I  find  equally  offensive.  You  may  say,  ''  How 
do  you  know  this  is  so,  if  you  do  not  read 
criticisms  ? "  Simply  from  the  reports  of 
the  above-mentioned  sugar-coated  friends  and 
well-wishers. 

I  often  call  to  mind  what  Mrs.  Garrick  said  to 
Edmund  Kean's  wife,  when  she  was  complaining 
about  the  rough  handling  and  slighting  remarks 
to  which  her  husband  was  often  subjected.  ''  My 
dear  !  Kean  should  do  as  Davy  did,  write  his  own 
criticisms."  I  fancy  Kean  was  of  my  opinion, 
it  would  not  be  worth  the  trouble.  Newspaper 
criticism  cannot  make  an  inferior  artiste  into 
a  superior  one,  but  it  can  and  does  at  times, 
by  unmerited  praise,  elevate  mediocrity  to  an 
undeserved  position  in  public  favour  and  ensure, 
for  a  time  at  least,  monetary  gain  ;  or  by  unmerited 
censure  or  "  damning  faint  praise "  keep  back 
a  genius  from  attaining  the  position  he  can  claim 
by  right,  and  his  honestly  earned  reward. 

At  one  of  the  Three  Choir  Festivals  I  introduced 
a    song — written    by    a    good    musician — at    an 


28        REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

evening  concert,  accompanied  on  the  piano  by  a 
man  who,  though  a  fine  musician,  had  not  the 
remotest  idea  of  accompanying  a  singer ;  my 
effort  in  consequence  fell  flat.  Shortly  after, 
walking  in  the  cathedral  cloisters,  I  met  a  well- 
known  critic,  who  assailed  me  with,  ''  Why  do 
you  sing  rubbish  ?  "  ''I  don't  sing  rubbish,'* 
said  I.  ''Yes  you  do,''  he  replied;  ''this  stuff 
you  have  just  sung,  because  you  are  paid  a  royalty 
for  singing  it,  I  suppose ;  and  you  sing  '  The 
Wreck  of  the  Hesperus,'  and  that's  rubbish." 
I  was  on  the  point  of  saying,  "Why  do  you  write 
rubbish  ?"  but  my  good  angel  trod  on  my  toe  and 
I  walked  away. 

At  another  festival,  the  same  gentleman  made 
anxious  enquiries  about  an  oratorio  by  Sir  F.  G. 
Ouseley,  which  we  were  just  about  to  rehearse. 
The  conductor  sent  for  the  score  that  Mr.  Critic 
might  peruse  the  work,  and  so  be  better  prepared 
to  give  his  weighty  opinion  of  its  merits.  On 
closing  the  book  he  made  the  sage  remark,  "  How 
extraordinary  it  is  that  whatever  key  the  music 
may  be  in,  the  trumpets  and  horns  are  always 
in  the  key  of  C." 

The  same  individual,  for  no  reason  that  I  can 
imagine,  took  upon  himself  to  draw  a  parallel 
(or  the  opposite)  between  Faure  and  myself ; 
he  gave  the  palm  to  me  as  Ho  el  in  "  Dinorah," 
and  to  Faure  in  Hamlet ;  Ho  el  being  a 
"  rustic,"  Hamlet  a  "  gentleman."  Ambroise 
Thomas,    the   composer   of    "  Hamlet,"    did   not 


A   BET  29 

share  that  opinion,  if  what  he  told  me  was  true, 
that  my  performance  of  Hamlet  was  fine  through- 
out, and  especially  in  the  play  scene,  which  I 
acted  ''  en  vrai  tragedienJ' 

God  rest  his  soul  !  I  never  nursed  any  resent- 
ment towards  him ;  we  had  been  very  good 
friends  for  many  years  and,  the  clouds  blown 
over,  we  became  so  again. 

As  a  rule,  I  have  every  reason  to  thank  the 
gentlemen  of  the  Press  for  their  kind  considera- 
tion and  courtesy,  of  which  my  real  friends  have 
made  me  aware.  The  most  amusing  notice  of 
myself  I  ever  read  was  contained  in  a  resume 
of  the  season,  written  in  verse  by  Ghislanzoni, 
a  well-known  critic  in  Milan,  the  year  I  sang  at 
the  Scala.  I  can  only  remember  the  last  line 
of  the  verse  of  which  I  was  the  subject,  '*  Giammai 
due  gamhe  simili  io  non  udii  cantar/'  ''  Never  two 
such  legs  have  I  heard  sing  !  "  Not  very  flattering 
to  my  artistic  pride,  though  they  may  have  been 
intended  to  flatter  my  personal  vanity. 

A  good  funny  story,  of  which  I  was  the  hero, 
appeared  some  years  ago  in  a  provincial  comic 
paper.  Two  young  fellows  were  on  the  road  to 
their  places  of  business ;  a  short  distance  in 
front  of  them  walked  an  individual,  solacing 
himself  with  some  florid  vocal  passages.  One 
of  the  two  said  to  his  companion,  *'  Fll  bet 
you  a  sovereign  that  I  kick  that  fellow  in  front 
of  us,  and  he  won't  retaliate. *'  *'  You'd  better 
be  careful,"  said  the  other,  ''or  you'll  get  yourself 


30        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

into  trouble/'  ''  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  the  first, 
'*  not  the  shghtest  danger  !  Will  you  take  the 
bet  ?"  "Very  well,  I  will,"  said  the  other,  "but 
mind,  Fm  not  going  to  help  you  out  of  the  mess, 
if  he  shows  fight."  "Oh,  he  won't  do  that," 
said  number  one,  and  starting  off  at  a  rapid  pace, 
overtook  the  vocalist,  on  whom  he  bestowed 
a  sounding  kick.  The  victim  turned  furiously 
upon  his  assailant,  prepared  to  administer 
condign  punishment ;  the  aggressor  started  back, 
as  though  intensely  surprised.  "  God  bless  me  !  " 
said  he,  "  I  have  made  a  dreadful  mistake,  I  beg 
your  pardon,  I  mistook  you  for  my  friend  Santley  ; 
I  am  really  very  sorry."  "  Don't  mention  it," 
replied  the  victim,  taking  off  his  hat  and  making  a 
graceful  bow ;  ^^  but  pray  be  more  careful  another 
time." 

The  most  touching  piece  of  criticism  of  my 
singing  I  ever  heard  was  at  Annecy,  in  Savoy, 
where  I  spent  my  summer  holiday  in  1897.  I 
had  a  letter  of  introduction  to  the  Mother 
Superior  of  the  Convent  of  the  Visitation,  a 
cousin  of  Adelaide  Procter,  the  poet.  In  my 
early  days  I  had  been  on  fairly  intimate  terms 
with  Mrs.  Procter  and  her  family,  and,  in 
consequence,  was  very  kindly  received  by  the 
reverend  lady.  In  return  I  volunteered  to  assist 
in  the  choir  of  their  church  during  a  "  neuvaine  " 
in  honour  of  Saint  Jeanne  de  Chantal,  the 
foundress  of  the  Order,  held  on  the  day  of  her 
feast  and  eight  following  days  ;    mass  early  in 


A  DISAPPOINTED   ADMIRER  31 

the  morning,  and  a  service  with  sermon  each 
morning  and  afternoon.  I  was  much  interested, 
and  sang  at  all  the  services. 

I  paid  several  visits  to  the  Mother  Superior  to 
have  a  little  chat  (through  the  grating).  She  was 
always  accompanied  by  two  of  the  sisters  ;  but 
on  one  occasion  she  was  called  away,  and  I  was 
left  alone  with  her  companions.  The  evening 
preceding  I  had  sung  Gounod's  beautiful  hymn 
to  the  "  Blessed  Sacrament/'  "Le  del  a  visite 
la  terre  "  ;  the  sisters  were  delighted  with  it ; 
one  of  them  told  me  that  as  she  was  leaving  the 
choir  she  heard  one  say  to  another,  ''  Quelle  helle 
voiXy  comme  il  chante  hien  ce  monsieur "  ;  the 
other  replied,  ''  Ma  soeur^  ce  n'est  pas  une  voix, 
c'est  une  dme  qui  chante!''  A  delicious  morsel 
which  amply  repaid  me  for  many  a  fast. 

To  this  the  following  will  serve  as  a  wholesome 
contrast.  Bound  for  Manchester,  to  sing  for 
Halle,  some  two  or  three  years  after  Gounod's 
"'Faust"  was  produced  at  the  Italian  Opera, I  was 
buying  some  literature  at  the  bookstall  at  Euston, 
when  I  heard,  ''  Hullo,  Santley,  where  are  you 
off  to  ?  "  Turning  round,  I  found  an  old  friend 
from  Manchester.  **  I  am  going  your  way,"  I 
replied.  ''  Then,"  said  he,  ''  come  in  with  us, 
my  wife  and  I  have  a  compartment  reserved." 
I  excused  myself,  saying  I  was  going  to  have  a 
smoke.  ''  That  will  be  all  right,"  said  my  friend, 
''  my  wife  is  used  to  it,  I  am  going  to  smoke 
a  cigar  myself."     I  was  introduced  to  Mrs. , 


32        REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

had  my  things  removed  to  my  new  place,  and 
off  we  went.  We  had  not  gone  far  when  my 
friend  started  up  from  his  paper  exclaiming, 
''  I  say,  Santley,  look  here,  this  is  most  extra- 
ordinary." His  better  half  started,  too. 
*'  What  did  you  say,  dear  ?"  she  remarked,  rather 
more  warmly  than  appeared  necessary.  ''  Nothing, 
my  dear,"  he  replied.  "  I  was  only  calling  Mr. 
Santley's  attention  to  ...  "  ''  Who  ?  "  she 
interrupted.  ''  Mr.  Santley — I  introduced  him 
to  you  at  Euston."  ^^  I  beg  pardon,"  said  she, 
''  I  did  not  hear  his  name."  Then,  turning  to 
me,  she  demanded,  '*  Are  you  the  singer  ?  "  ''I 
am,"  said  I.  ''  But  you  are  not  the  one  who 
plays  Valentine  in  'Faust'  ?"  ''I  have  the  honour 
to  be  that  individual."  '*  Oh  dear !  how 
different  you  look  now,  not  at  all  like  you  do 
in  the  opera.  Why  don't  you  wear  that 
beautiful  blonde  wig  always  ? "  I  suggested 
it  would  look  rather  frowsy  by  daylight ;  but 
it  was  of  no  use.  All  she  could  say,  in  conclusion, 
was,  *'  Good  gracious,  I  never  was  so  disappointed 
in  my  life." 

I  had  a  tour  in  the  provinces  during  the  autumn 
of  1872,  extending  over  about  three  months. 
I  had  pleasant  companions,  well  -  attended 
concerts,  and  few  long  journeys,  so  alto- 
gether we  passed  a  very  agreeable  time.  Our 
accompanist  was  a  first-rate  man,  and  a  very 
amusing  companion,  but  occasionally  inclined  to 
vagaries. 


A   NARROW   ESCAPE  33 

One  Friday  evening  we  were  engaged  to  sing 
in  ''  Samson "  at  St.  George's  Hall,  Liverpool ; 
my  erratic  friend,  having  nothing  to  do  in  the 
oratorio,  begged  me  to  allow  him  to  go  to  London 
to  transact  some  very  pressing  business.  I  gave 
him  permission,  on  his  binding  himself  solemnly 
to  be  in  Dublin  (where  we  had  to  appear  on  the 
Monday)  not  later  than  Sunday  evening.  He 
did  not  turn  up,  nor  on  Monday  morning,  so  we 
were  placed  in  a  dilemma.  Fortunately,  an 
amiable  member  of  our  Company  volunteered 
to  play  the  accompaniments  allotted  to  the  piano  ; 
the  rest  the  orchestra  supplied,  so  we  pulled 
through  fairly  well.  Tuesday  evening  we  were 
due  at  Cork,  and  had  to  leave  Dublin  by  an  early 
train.  The  truant  arrived  by  the  morning  mail, 
with  a  black  eye,  on  which  a  limner  had  performed, 
with  the  result  of  producing  the  most  extra- 
ordinary disfigurement  I  ever  beheld  on  a  human 
face.  Sundry  devices  were  proposed  to  hide 
the  blemish  from  the  public  gaze  ;  we  ultimately 
arranged  to  have  the  piano  placed  so  that  the 
offending  member  should  be  towards  the  back 
of  the  platform,  its  penitent  owner  taking  his 
place  with  his  sound  orb  turned  towards  the 
audience,  where  he  had  to  remain  doing  penance 
until  the  concert  terminated. 

The  tour  was  very  successful  financially,  but 
I  nearly  lost  the  hard-earned  reward  of  my  labour, 
for  I  found  my  agent  had  omitted  to  place  the 
funds  remitted  to   him   to   my  credit   with  my 

3— (2286) 


34        REMINISCENCES  OF  MY   LIFE 

bankers,  and  I  had  to  resort  to  strong  measures 
to  recover  what  was  due  to  me. 

After  this  I  dropped  into  the  routine  of  concerts, 
oratorios,  etc.  The  ''  ballad  concerts,"  under 
the  management  of  John  Boosey,  were  in  full 
force,  in  which  the  best  available  English  singers 
took  part,  including  Mdme.  Lemmens  Sherrington, 
Mrs.  Patey,  Mdme.  A.  Stirling,  Reeves,  myself, 
Foli,  and  others. 

I  had  many  little  spars  with  J.  Boosey,  but  we 
never  quarrelled ;  we  were  very  intimate  friends, 
both  personally  and  professionally.  He  was  one 
of  the  few  men  connected  with  music  who  could 
or  would  converse  upon  interesting  subjects 
apart  from  music  ;  he  had  a  plentiful  store  of 
wit — caustic  occasionally  but  not  offensively  so. 
He  had  a  fine  house  at  Acton,  where  I  often  dined 
with  him  and  his  hospitable  spouse.  There  was 
only  one  small  drawback  to  my  enjoyment — a 
piping  bullfinch  that  could  only  pipe  one  tune, 
and  that  minus  the  last  note ;  the  constant 
repetition  of  the  lopped  melody  used  to  drive  me 
crazy,  while  my  host  only  enjoyed  the  fun,  as  he 
called  it.  John  Boosey  was  one  of  the  most 
courteous  and  generous  men  in  business  I  ever 
dealt  with,  and  one  of  the  most  hospitable  in 
private  life.  Such  friends  are  not  easily  replaced; 
I  felt  his  loss  deeply. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Connection  with  the  Kemble  Family — Impecunious  Relations — 
An  Exception — Secret  Matrimonial  Engagement — "  The  Gaff 
Blown  " — "  All's  well  that  ends  well  " — Honeymoon — Dismal 
Lodgings — Ghostly  Disturbances — Monotonous  Diet — Change 
for  the   Better — A  Windfall. 

Through  my  marriage  with  Gertrude  Kemble  I 
became  connected  by  a  very  slender  tie  with 
the  family  of  great  actors,  of  whom  one  only, 
Charles,  I  had  ever  seen  in  the  flesh  ;  I  heard  him 
read  Henry  VIII,  at  the  Mechanics'  Institution, 
when  I  was  a  pupil  there.  I  do  not  remember 
much  about  it,  except  that  he  was  a  fine,  dignified 
old  gentleman,  for  I  never  was  fond  of  ''  readings." 
I  became  intimately  acquainted,  in  spirit,  with 
John  Kemble  and  Mrs.  Siddons  through  the 
medium  of  a  book  I  found  in  the  cockloft  of  my 
grandfather's  shop,  containing  the  '^  bills  of  the 
play  "  during  their  occupancy  of  Co  vent  Garden 
Theatre,  a  treasure  I  longed  to  confiscate,  but  I 
had  not  the  courage  to  ask  for  it,  nor  the  audacity 
to  pilfer  it.  My  slight  connection  by  marriage 
was  with  Fanny  Kemble  (Mrs.  Pierce  Butler), 
Adelaide  Kemble  (Mrs.  Edward  Sartoris),  and  my 
wife's  brother  and  sister ;  her  father,  John 
Mitchell,  the  great  Anglo-Saxon  scholar,  died  a 
short  time  before  I  made  her  acquaintance. 

I  was  introduced  by  Lady  Grant  to  one  she 
styled  a  cousin  of  mine,  a  charming  old  lady  who 

35 


36        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

resided  in  Edinburgh — I  believe  a  daughter  or 
granddaughter  of  Mrs.  Siddons — but  I  failed 
to  understand  where  the  relationship  existed, 
though  I  was  told  that  in  Scotland  it  would  be 
held  perfectly  valid.  Theoretically  and  legally 
I  am  bound  to  acknowledge  the  relationship  of  a 
cousin  ;  practically,  with  very  rare  exception,  I 
do  not.  In  the  case  of  one  who  was  troubled 
to  get  rid  of  superfluous  income,  such  relations 
would  be  invaluable,  at  any  rate,  the  specimens 
I  have  had  to  deal  with  generally,  would  be.  I 
am  not  complaining  ;  it  is  the  lot  of  man,  though 
I  do  not  remember  that  Job  makes  any  mention 
of  petitions  for  small  loans,  the  repayment 
postponed  sine  die.  It  is  strange  how  affectionate 
these  relations  become,  and  how  deeply  concerned 
regarding  one's  health,  when  the  encroaching 
spirit  moves  them.  Though  I  have  little  to  spare 
for  outsiders,  it  is  not  giving  money  that  I  care 
about,  but  I  hate  the  wheedling  process  ;  it  rubs 
me  up  the  wrong  way,  and  I  feel  more  inclined 
to  give  the  wheedler  a  clout  on  the  ear  rather  than 
the  coin  he  craves. 

What  a  blessing  it  is  to  meet  with  an  *'  angel's 
visit "  in  the  shape  of  a  relation  who  is  not 
impecunious !  I  met  with  one  during  my  last 
visit  to  the  United  States  in  1891,  at  Cleveland, 
Ohio.  I  was  busy  writing  my  letters  for  the 
English  mail,  when  a  bell-boy  appeared  to 
announce  that  a  gentleman  below  desired  to 
speak  to  me ;    he  had  not  asked  his  name,  so  I 


A    PLEASANT  FAMILY   RELATION    37 

packed  him  off  to  find  it  out  ;  he  returned  with 
the  information  that  the  caller's  name  was 
Santley.  I  murmured  to  myself,  "  Another  fiver.'* 
I  said  to  the  bell-boy,  kindly  (you  must  be  very 
polite  to  bell-boys,  or  they  will  challenge  you  to 
mortal  combat),  ^^  Ask  the  gentleman  if  he  would 
do  me  the  favour  to  call  again  in  the  afternoon,  as 
I  am  very  busy  with  my  mail  letters."  He  did 
not  call  again,  so  I  felt  sure  I  had  made  a  ''  fiver." 

I  had  to  leave  for  St.  Paul  the  same  night  j 
when  I  had  supped  I  strolled  into  the  vestibule 
of  the  hotel  to  smoke  a  cigar.  After  a  few 
minutes,  a  gentlemanly  individual  approached 
me,  saying,  "  You  are  Mr.  Santley,  I  think." 
(I  was  delighted  he  did  not  say,  *'  I  guess.")  I 
replied,  ''  I  am,  and  I  presume  you  are  the  gentle- 
man who  called  on  me  this  morning."  ''  Yes," 
said  he,  ^^and  I  came  to  pay  you  a  visit,  hoping 
you  might  have  a  week  or  two  free  to  accompany 
me  to  my  home.  I  am  a  lumber  merchant,  doing 
a  large  business  ;  I  have  a  charming  residence 
not  far  away,  a  charming  wife,  and  some  very  nice 
children.  I  came  over  expressly  to  try  and 
induce  you  to  come  and  stay  with  us  as  long  as 
you  like,  to  do  what  you  like,  and  I  guarantee 
you  shall  have  a  very  pleasant  time." 

Here  was  a  revelation  !  Unfortunately,  I  had 
to  explain  to  him  that  I  was  at  the  disposal  of 
my  manager,  who,  having  arranged  his  tour,  could 
not,  however  kindly  disposed  he  might  be  (he 
was  one   of  the  few  kindly-disposed  managers  I 


S8        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

have  met  with),  let  me  off  for  a  hoHday.  We  had 
time  for  a  chat  before  my  train  started ; 
comparing  notes,  I  found  he  was  a  grandson  of 
my  grandfather's  eldest  brother,  who  had 
emigrated  in  the  year  1832  or  1836  and  had  never 
been  heard  of  after.  Probably  he  had  gone 
West,  and  in  those  days  there  were  few,  if  any, 
opportunities  for  dispatching  letters  from  the 
backwoods.  Evidently,  as  far  as  my  cousin  was 
concerned,  the  Santley  phoenix  had  risen  out  of 
the  ancestral  cinders. 

Let  us  now  return  to  our  sheep  which  have  been 
straying  for  a  while  ;  I  would  have  said  lambs, 
as  more  delicate  and  more  polite,  but  neither 
sheep  nor  lambs  would  be  a  name  applicable  to 
a  family  of  lions — ferocious  withal  when  there 
was  a  meaty  bone  to  pick,  though  their  *'  fortiter 
in  re  "  never  sat  upon  me  so  heavily  as  their 
**  suaviter  in  modo "  when  they  donned  the 
lambskin  for  the  nonce. 

My  engagement  with  Miss  Kemble  was  to  be 
kept  a  profound  secret  from  the  world,  except 
from  her  sister,  until  I  should  find  myself  in  a 
position  to  warrant  me  in  presenting  myself  as  a 
suitor  for  her  hand  in  matrimony.  Like  the 
ostrich,  we  buried  our  heads  in  the  sand,  forgetting 
that  the  rest  of  our  anatomy  was  visible.  We 
had  been  singing  at  a  party  at  Halle's  one  night. 
I  left  the  house  first  and  engaged  a  cab,  waited 
until  my  fiancee  joined  me,  and  then  saw  her 
safely  landed  at  her  residence.     The  next  morning, 


THE  COURSE   OF  TRUE   LOVE        39 

early,  I  received  a  message  from  Chorley  to  go  to 
him  immediately,  as  he  had  some  important 
business  to  communicate. 

I  started  off  at  once,  my  brain  crowded  with 
visions  of  lucrative  engagements  at  the  Italian 
Opera,  or  goodness  knows  where  else.  I  was 
ushered  into  the  dining-room,  Chorley  greeted  me 
with  a  loving  smile  ;  then  I  beheld  Aunt  Adelaide, 
smiling  too,  the  smile  rather  forced,  it  struck  me. 

Chorley  left  us  together,  to  my  dismay,  merely 
remarking,  *'  Mrs.  Sartoris  has  something  to  say 
to  you,  Santley !  "  My  visions  vanished  in  a 
trice,  even  my  poor  little  love  engagement  I  saw 
hanging  by  a  spidery  thread.  Had  Auntie 
assailed  me  with  vituperation,  execration,  or  any 
other  dreadful  ''  ation,"  I  would  have  been  ready 
for  her,  and  replied  with  some  strong  ''  ations  " 
of  my  own  ;  but  she  had  invested  herself  in  the 
robe  of  lambskin,  and  all  my  courage  sank  into 
my  shoes.  I  sat  staring  at  the  floor  like  a  booby  ; 
even  when  she  asked  me  why  I  had  not  spoken 
to  her,  I  had  not  the  courage  to  put  my  reply  in 
words,  ''It  is  your  niece  I  want  to  marry,  not 
you  !  "     "  All's  well  that  ends  well." 

There  was  to  be  no  talk  of  an  engagement  for 
twelve  months,  an  interminable  period  it  seemed 
to  me,  but  I  was  only  twenty- five ;  I  was  allowed 
to  pay  my  sweetheart  a  formal  visit  every  Sun- 
day evening  ;  with  the  assistance  of  sister  in  the 
character  of  ''  gooseberry,"  we  managed  occasional 
informal   visits,  or   rather   meetings,  in  Regent's 


40        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

Park  to  keep  our  hands  in  for  the  Sunday  formals. 
Before  the  twelve  months  expired,  in  consequence 
of  my  success  in  my  profession,  or  perhaps  to 
get  us  safe  off  her  hands,  Mrs.  S.  signified  to  me 
that  when  I  felt  I  was  prepared,  we  might  enter 
on  domestic  bliss  as  soon  as  we  chose  ;  we  chose 
an  early  date,  and  were  married  within  the  period 
stipulated  for  our  probation. 

The  ceremony  was  performed  by  the  Rev. 
William  Harniss,  in  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Sartoris, 
Mildred  Kemble,  Miss  Harniss,  and  H.  F.  Chorley, 
who  wanted  to  escape  attendance  on  the  plea 
that  he  was  a  bird  of  evil  omen,  but  we  insisted, 
as  we  looked  upon  him,  if  not  as  the  instigator 
of  the  movement,  certainly  as  being  the  primary 
cause  of  our  meeting,  of  which  this  was  the  result. 
My  father  came  up  from  Liverpool  to  see  his  son 
and  heir  disposed  of,  and  rather  upset  my 
equilibrium  by  appearing  in  a  dress  coat  and 
white  kid  gloves  ;  but  once  I  felt  I  had  my  little 
wife  all  safe,  I  did  not  trouble  my  head  about 
trifles  ;  I  even  forgot  to  pay  the  church  fees,  and 
can  only  hope  my  father  atoned  for  my  neglect. 

I  had  an  engagement  at  Leeds  to  sing  in  the 
'^  Messiah  "  the  following  week.  So  the  happy 
couple  left,  after  a  plain,  substantial  breakfast, 
given  by  the  kindly  ladies  with  whom  my  bride 
had  resided  for  some  time,  for  Skipton,  to  be  near 
Bolton  Abbey.  My  fee  for  the  concert  covered 
the  expenses  of  our  short  honeymoon,  and  left 
a  little  to  add  to  the  £10  I  had  already  in  hand. 


DISMAL   LODGINGS;     INSOMNIA      41 

We  returned  to  my  old  lodgings  in  Somerset 
Street,  Portman  Square,  about  the  most  dismal 
place  with  which  I  have  ever  been  on  intimate 
terms.  When  first  I  occupied  them,  before  my 
marriage,  for  a  few  nights  I  scarcely  had  a  wink 
of  sleep,  or  thought  I  had  not,  which  amounts 
to  the  same  thing.  I  have  know^n  many  people 
who,  according  to  their  own  account,  never  close 
their  eyes,  yet  I  have  heard  them  snoring  during 
the  watches  of  the  night.  It  may  be  (?)  they 
merely  imitate  a  snore  as  an  effective  startler 
to  scare  aggressive  blue-bottles  or  daddy-long-legs. 
It  is  a  pity  these  wide-awake  individuals  could 
not  try  a  mosquito  or  so,  goodness  only  knows 
what  the  result  might  be  ;  Jove  would  be  no- 
where with  his  paltry  thunders,  and  the  poor 
victims  of  insomnia  would  be  like  the  fabled 
what's-his-name,  eyes  all  over. 

However,  I  do  not  belong  to  the  noble  army 
of  insomnious  martyrs.  I  do  not  sleep  long,  but 
broad,  while  I  am  at  it,  and  beyond  dreaming 
I  am  chased  by  a  bull  or  other  pet  animal,  I  get 
through  my  nights  most  satisfactorily.  When  I 
was  singing  at  Co  vent  Garden  in  1859-60, 1  dined 
early,  3.30  or  4;  and  after  a  heavy  opera  and 
a  fast  of  about  eight  hours  I  felt  ravenous,  ready 
for  anything,  from  bread  and  cheese  to  roast 
donkey  stuffed  with  horse  soldiers.  I  frequently 
ate  for  my  supper  a  sheep's  heart  roast,  with  sage 
and  onions,  accompanied  by  an  abundant  salad, 
and  went  off  to  bed  and  to  sleep  in  a  jiffey.     I 


42        REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

may  have  snored^  but  I  was  not  aware  of  the  fact, 
and  my  dear  better  half  never  hinted  at  such 
an  unhappy  conjuncture  of  affairs  (see  Imperial 
Dictionary,  under  conjuncture). 

I  was  really  disturbed  by  a  noise  for  which  I 
could  not  account ;  at  times  I  was  convinced 
it  was  the  ghost  of  one  of  those  rascally  ancestors 
of  mine,  doomed  for  a  certain  term  to  walk  the 
earth,  or  my  bedroom  floor,  hung  in  chains  as  a 
warning  to  me,  his  unhappy  descendant,  to 
abjure  the  evil  paths  he  had  been  accustomed 
to  tread  ;  at  other  times  my  fancy  flew  to  the 
chimney  where  I  imagined  a  creature  of  flesh  and 
blood  was  making  his  way  down  to  clear  my 
chamber  of  any  articles  of  vertu  that  might  be 
lying  about. 

I  consoled  myself  with  the  happy  thought  that 
he  was  making  ''  much  ado  about  nothing,"  as 
I  knew  he  could  not  find  my  ten  pounds,  all  the 
vertu  I  possessed,  and  I  indulged  in  the  Christian 
hope  that  he  would  scrape  the  bark  off  the  salient 
angles  of  his  body,  probably  disable  a  limb  or  so, 
enough  to  deter  him  from  venturing  down 
forbidden  routes  again !  I  discovered  at  last 
what  I  might  have  discovered  at  first,  had  I  been 
sharp,  but  I  am  not  ;  I  am  somewhat  obtuse, 
to  which  I  owe  my  escape  from  many  abrasions, 
both  of  body  and  mind.  I  found  that  the  cause 
of  my  disturbed  slumbers  was  nothing  more  than 
the  noise  the  horses  in  a  stable  behind  the  house 
made,  rattling  their  chain  halters  ;    my  fears  were 


A  FAIRY   GODMOTHER  43 

dispelled,  and  I  was  again  able  to  sleep  the  sleep 
of  the  just. 

When  my  better  half  and  I  returned  from  the 
honeymoon,  I  found  other  causes  which  deter- 
mined us  to  change  our  quarters.  To  avoid  the 
bother  of  housekeeping  we  arranged  for  board 
as  well  as  lodging.  The  former  we  found 
monotonous  ;  the  food  consisted  of  shoulder 
and  loin  of  mutton  alternately,  with  ordinary 
vegetables.  I  became  at  last  really  ashamed  to 
look  upon  the  countenance  of  a  sheep.  Cabbage 
and  potatoes  are  excellent  vegetables,  but  their 
daily  consumption  we  found  tedious,  and,  I 
thought,  conducive  to  dyspepsia. 

It  was  easy  to  resolve  upon  leaving  our 
unsympathetic  lodging  and  seek  the  shelter  of 
''  a  pleasant  cot,  in  a  tranquil  spot  with  a  distant 
view  of  the  changing  scene,"  but  where  was  the 
furniture  to  come  from  ?  Ten  pounds  is  a  sum  not 
to  be  "sneezed  at  "  under  certain  circumstances, 
but  when  it  is  a  question  of  furnishing  a  house, 
or  even  a  cottage  (the  ''  cot  "  of  the  poet  whose 
lines  I  quote  above),  any  negotiations  with 
Messrs.  Maple,  or  Druce,  or  even  a  second-hand 
dealer  in  War  dour  Street,  based  on  the  possession 
of  such  an  amount  of  capital,  might  end  in  ironical 
smiles. 

Fortunately  we  were  spared  the  pain  of  being 
''  put  to  shame."  My  wife  had  a  fairy  godmother 
(she  was  rather  stout  for  the  part,  but  was  gifted 
with  a  kind  heart,  stout  in  proportion)  who  with 


44        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

another  lady  rented  a  house  in  Porchester  Place, 
Connaught  Square.  They  were  desirous  of 
spending  a  year  in  Switzerland,  and  offered  to 
let  us  their  tenement  during  their  absence  for  the 
same  rent  they  themselves  paid  and  taxes,  the 
house  to  be  kept  in  proper  condition.  Naturally 
we  jumped  at  the  offer,  and  in  a  short  time  became 
householders  on  easy  terms  in  a  highly  respectable 
neighbourhood,  with  a  prospect  of  being  able  to 
save  sufficient  to  face  Messrs.  Maple  or  Druce 
boldly  when  we  should  be  left  to  our  own  resources. 
I  had  already  a  number  of  concerts  booked, 
and  before  long  I  had  booked  myself  for  the 
Pyne  and  Harrison  English  Opera  season  of 
1859-60  at  Co  vent  Garden.  A  windfall  dropped 
into  my  wife's  lap  which  set  us  completely  on  our 
legs,  so  at  the  end  of  the  opera  season  I  was  able 
to  return  the  money  I  still  owed  my  father, 
leaving  a  nice  little  sum  to  our  credit  in  the  bank. 
I  had  gone  through  much  hard  work  and  excite- 
ment at  the  theatre,  besides  no  small  amount 
of  wear  and  tear  of  nervous  system  consequent 
on  scrimmages  with  managers.  I  felt  I  required 
a  thorough  rest,  and  my  wife  and  self  determined 
upon  taking  a  good  holiday. 


CHAPTER   V 

The  Kemble  Family — John  Kemble  on  Edmund  Kean — Terror 
of  Dogs — Four-footed  Beasts  in  General — The  Purveyor  of 
Buttermilk — How  to  Baffle  the  Bull — Introduction  to 
Gertrude  Kemble  and  Aunt  Adelaide  (Mrs.  Sartoris)  at 
Chorley's — Dinner  at  Aunt  A.'s — Dante  Rossetti,  Frederick 
Leighton,  Henry  Greville,  Virginia  Gabriel — The  Dowager 
Countess  of  Essex — Funereal  Festivity — Opposition  to 
Chorley's  Views — A  Contrast  to  the  Countess  of  Essex  taken  in. 

Before  relating  our  adventures,  I  must  turn 
back  for  a  while  to  introduce  other  members  of 
my  new  family  connection.  Besides  my  spiritual 
acquaintance  with  the  great  John  and  Sarah, 
I  heard  several  anecdotes  which,  while  they 
increased  my  admiration  for  their  plain  speaking, 
inspired  me  with  a  certain  amount  of  awe.  Of 
John  it  was  related  that  the  first  time  he  went 
to  see  his  rival,  Edmund  Kean,  who  was  playing 
opposition  at  Drury  Lane,  after  the  play  the  box 
opener,  probably  with  an  eye  to  future  chances, 
asked  him,  ''  What  do  you  think  of  our  little 
man,  Mr.  Kemble  ? "  To  which  the  great 
tragedian  replied,  ''  True,  sir,  he  is  a  little  man, 
but  he  is  terribly  in  earnest  !  "  A  most  sensible 
and  polite  snub  for  Mr.  Officious,  but  it  struck 
me  as  savouring  too  much  of  the  Ghost  in 
''  Hamlet."  Again,  when  he  was  teaching  the 
King  elocution,  and  told  His  Majesty  to  open 
his  royal  jaws  a  little  wider,  and  say  "  oblige  " 
instead  of  ''obleege,"  I  admired  his  manly,  artistic 

45 


46        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

spirit,  but  I  thought  if  the  next  generation  with 
which  I  had  to  come  in  contact  inherited  the 
spirit  of  their  ancestors,  I  should  most  probably 
be  in  for  a  '*  bad  time." 

In  my  early  youth  I  had  no  fear  of  animals, 
with  the  exception  of  dogs,  and  it  was  rather 
their  bark  than  their  bite  which  frightened  me. 
My  summer  holidays  I  generally  spent  with 
friends  in  the  country ;  several  times  I  spent 
them  at  a  farmhouse  in  the  Isle  of  Man  (I  paid  a 
visit  to  it  in  1906,  and  found  it  unchanged  from 
what  I  remember  it  in  1841).  I  was  on  terms 
of  intimacy  with  horses,  horned  cattle,  pigs, 
poultry,  and  even  the  dogs,  after  a  few  days' 
acquaintance.  I  had  doubts  about  the  bull, 
he  was  such  a  savage-looking  beast,  but  as  I  was 
informed  it  was  he  that  supplied  the  buttermilk, 
for  which  I  had  a  great  liking,  I  soon  made  friends 
with  him,  and  he  gave  me  no  further  concern. 
In  after  years,  when  I  had  no  further  opportunities 
of  extending  my  acquaintance  with  the  lower 
animals,  I  dropped  into  scepticism  with  regard 
to  their  friendly  feeling  towards  the  human  race, 
and  me  in  particular. 

On  several  occasions  I  have — only  a  short 
distance  from  Kilburn  Gate — been  scared  out 
of  my  wits  on  finding  myself  suddenly  face  to 
face  with  John  Bull  (of  course  I  mean  the  horned 
beast).  I  have  consulted  experts  in  animal 
manners  as  to  the  best  way  to  act  in  such  a 
dilemma ;    the  advice  I  invariably  received  was 


HOW  TO   ELUDE   THE   BULL         47 

''  Cut  your  stick,  as  fast  as  your  legs  can  carry 
you,  or,  if  that  is  not  feasible,  face  the  animal 
with  courage  "  (ahem  !) ;  ^^  like  all  dumb  animals 
he  is  nervous  and  really  more  afraid  of  you  than 
you  are  of  him,  he  is  aggressive  simply  because 
he  wants  to  do  unto  you  as  he  suspects  you  would 
do  unto  him,  and  intends  to  do  it  first." 

Without  the  slightest  thought  of  disrespect 
to  my  fellow-creatures,  I  have,  on  mature 
consideration,  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that 
there  are  people  who  in  this  bear  a  striking 
resemblance  to  the  horned  J.  B. ;  they  glare  at 
you,  when  introduced,  so  fiercely,  you  might 
suppose  they  were  about  to  make  a  meal  of  you. 
Face  them  with  courage,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten 
you  will  discover  their  fierceness  is  but  a  mask 
to  hide  nervousness,  and  at  heart  they  are  good- 
natured  folk,  ever  ready  to  do  you  a  kindness. 
I  have  tried  the  experiment  on  the  human  being 
with  success,  but  I  never  had  the  courage  to  face 
the  horned  beast.  This  is  merely  a  preamble, 
let  us  ''  cut  the  cackle  and  come  to  the  osses  " — 
lions,  I  mean  ! 

My  introduction  to  them  was,  as  I  have  before 
recorded,  at  Chorley's,  I  found  J.  B.  decidedly 
rampant,  even  the  object  of  my  affections  glared, 
but  a  monitor  within  suggested  that  the  glare 
was  merely  put  on  to  save  appearances,  that  a 
change  would  come  o'er  the  spirit  of  the  dream 
and  smiles  take  the  place  of  frowns ;  it  was  a 
case   of  love   at   first   sight,   and   I   allowed  my 


48        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

thoughts  to  wander  in  the  realms  of  bHss.  With 
Auntie  the  case  was  different ;  I  had  no  desire 
to  gain  her  affections,  though  I  did  wish  to  gain 
her  esteem  ;  for  some  time  I  had  to  face  the 
fiery  glare,  assumed  I  believe  to  cover  her 
apprehension  in  regard  to  my  ill-concealed 
admiration  for  her  niece.  However  it  was,  as 
I  began  to  win  my  spurs  the  glare  gave  place  to 
a  friendly  smile  and  a  cordial  reception.  Deo 
gratias  ! 

Shortly  after  our  marriage  we  received  an 
invitation  from  Mrs.  Sartoris  to  dine  at  her  house. 
I  would  have  preferred  spending  the  evening  at 
home,  so  also  would  my  wife,  but  there  was  no 
excuse  possible,  go  we  must ;  it  was  an  honour 
we  dared  not  refuse.  The  honoured  guest  was 
Dante  Rossetti,  just  then  bursting  into  fame ; 
Frederick  Leighton,  Henry  Greville,  Virginia 
Gabriel,  Mary  Boyle  (a  charming  little  lady  who 
some  years  later,  when  she  had  lost  her  sight 
completely,  told  me  my  voice  always  reminded 
her  of  the  bright  warm  colour  and  softness  of 
ruby  velvet)  were  among  the  guests. 

As  I  had  not  yet  mounted  spurs,  I  was  relegated 
to  the  bottom  of  the  table  on  the  left  of  our  host. 
I  had  never  heard  of  Rossetti,  but  I  soon  guessed 
from  the  great  attention  he  received  from  the 
hostess  and  her  more  honoured  guests  that  he 
was  the  "  lion  "  of  the  feast.  It  was  the  first 
time  I  found  myself  in  company  with  a  society 
lion,  my  curiosity  was  aroused,  and  I  watched  him. 


D.   G.   ROSSETTI  49 

I  had  plenty  of  opportunity,  as  Sartoris  was  a 
very  quiet  man,  though  he  talked  well  when  he 
did  talk.  I  used  to  meet  him  often  at  parties 
at  his  own  house,  Halle's,  and  sometimes  at 
Chorley's,  etc.  He  generally  ensconced  himself 
in  a  quiet  corner  away  from  the  *'  madding 
crowd,"  but  wherever  he  might  be  placed,  sooner 
or  later  he  would  edge  his  way  to  me,  shake  hands, 
then  after  a  word  or  two  find  his  way  to  another 
retired  nook.  Richard  Doyle  used  to  execute  a 
similar  performance  whenever  we  were  fellow 
guests. 

The  ''  lion  '*  did  not  impress  me  favourably, 
neither  subsequently  did  his  works,  poetical  or 
pictorial.  When  we  were  in  the  drawing-room 
after  dinner,  and  Rossetti  had  departed,  Henry 
Greville  was  very  eulogistic  in  his  favour  ;  he 
said  he  had  never  seen  such  an  eye  since  he  saw 
Edmund  Kean  in  ''Richard  III.''  I  never  saw 
Edmund  Kean,  to  my  sorrow,  but  I  have  very 
often  seen  finer  eyes  than  Dante  Rossetti' s. 
Whatever  else  he  had  an  eye  for,  he  certainly 
had  not  one  for  a  pretty  woman,  judging  from 
the  plain-looking  type  he  was  so  fond  of  repro- 
ducing ;  I  cannot  imagine  who  it  was  dubbed 
him  poet.  I  never  saw  him  again,  so  had  no 
personal  acquaintance  with  him.     R.I. P.  I 

I  do  not  intend  to  arrogate  to  myself  the  office 
of  critic ;  I  am  jotting  down  experiences, 
impressions,  and  personal  opinions  ;  the  first  are 
real,  the  second  may  be  in  some  cases  false,  and 

4— (2286) 


50        REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

the  third  all  wrong,  except  where  my  opinion  is 
based  on  knowledge  and  experience. 

Henry  Greville  was  a  true  gentleman  and  a 
true  friend  ;  he  did  not  belong  to  that  unpleasant 
class  who  are  ''  hail  fellow,  well  met  "  one  day 
and  pass  you  in  the  street  without  a  sign  of 
acquaintanceship  the  next.  We  had  one  "  tiff  " 
through  a  misunderstanding  on  his  part  and  lack 
of  knowledge  of  the  world  on  mine  ;  when  he 
discovered  his  mistake,  he  acknowledged  it,  and 
in  a  most  substantial  way — a  valuable  present  of 
old  silver — though  I  appreciated  the  restoration 
to  his  friendship  much  more  highly. 

Virginia  Gabriel  was  another  staunch  friend 
of  mine  ;  I  was  a  standing  dish  at  all  her  musical 
parties,  unless  I  happened  to  be  engaged  at  a 
public  concert.  I  was  also  a  frequent  visitor  at 
other  times,  as  I  was  of  service  in  trying  over 
her  compositions.  Her  songs  were  always 
melodious,  several  became  great  favourites  ;  she 
was  a  pupil  of  Molique,  and  would  have  achieved 
some  solid,  enduring  work  had  she  not  allowed 
enthusiasm  to  override  discretion  ;  she  possessed 
the  ''  fatal  facility  "  which  has  militated  against 
the  lasting  success  of  many  composers  of  higher 
rank. 

At  her  house  I  was  introduced  to  many  members 
of  the  aristocracy ;  of  all,  the  most  sympathetic 
to  me  was  the  Countess  of  Essex,  in  her  youth 
the  celebrated  ballad  singer.  Miss  Stephens. 
What  a  charming  old  lady  she  was ;   in  the  high 


DINNER   FOR   A   SONG  51 

position  she  held  in  society  she  preserved  the 
same  sweet  simpUcity  of  manner  for  which  she 
was  noted  in  her  singing  days.  She  honoured  me 
with  an  invitation  to  dinner,  which  Chorley  insisted 
on  my  accepting,  very  much  against  my  will. 

There  were  present,  besides  the  Countess  and 
her  niece,  Mrs.  Sartoris  (Adelaide  Kemble),  the 
Rev.  Francis  Young  (son  of  the  celebrated  actor, 
Chas.  Young),  Lady  Beecher  (Miss  O'Neill,  the 
original  Jane  Shore) ^  M.  Viardot  (Pauhne  Viardot- 
Garcia's  husband),  and  others  whose  names  I 
do  not  remember.  I  thus  found  myself  in  very 
distinguished  company.  I  took  little  part  in 
the  conversation,  and  limited  myself  to  observa- 
tion of  people  whose  names  had  been  familiar 
to  me  through  my  acquaintance  with  their 
biography. 

We  men  remained  at  table  a  very  short  time 
after  the  ladies  departed,  and  when  we  joined 
them  in  the  drawing-room,  Mrs.  Sartoris  asked 
me  to  join  her  in  a  little  music.  Lady  Essex 
immediately  came  to  me,  and  very  kindly  said, 
"  Do  not  sing  ;  I  asked  you,  Mr.  Santley,  for  the 
pleasure  of  your  company,  not  to  entertain  my 
friends."  However,  Mrs.  Sartoris  insisted,  and 
we  sang  a  duet  and  one  or  two  songs.  How 
different  to  the  treatment  I  have  experienced 
from  people  who,  aristocratic  by  position,  lack 
aristocratic  feeling!  I  do  not  object  to  taking 
my  share  in  entertaining  a  party  of  pleasant 
people  at  any  time,  but  I  strongly  object  to  find 


52        REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

myself  invited  to  dinner  for  the  sole  purpose  of 
entertaining  the  guests  after. 

In  the  early  part  of  my  career  I  found  myself 
in  that  position  occasionally,  and,  acting  on  my 
experience,  I  always  declined  invitations  to  dinner, 
except  with  friends  who  I  knew  would  not  expect 
me  to  *'  sing  for  my  dinner."  I  like  to  dine  with 
my  friends  and  have  friends  to  dine  with  me  in 
an  informal  manner,  but  I  do  not  like  '*  dinner 
parties  "  in  England,  they  are  as  formal  as  a  state 
banquet ;  all  the  proceedings  are  carried  on  with 
a  gravity  more  becoming  a  funeral  than  a  festival ; 
the  black  suits  and  v/hite  cravats  of  the  men 
adding  to  the  solemnity  of  the  function. 

On  the  Continent,  except  on  ''  state  occasions," 
there  is  no  formality.  The  ladies  do  not  appear 
decolletee,  and  men  can  appear  in  the  dress  that 
suits  them  best.  The  guests  enter  into  conversa- 
tion freely,  and  not  in  a  whisper  ;  the  consequence 
is  that  people  really  enjoy  themselves.  Somebody 
said  we  English  take  our  pleasures  sadly.  ''  Use 
is  second  nature"  :  it  may  be  that  with  use  ''  the 
funereal  "  may  represent  ''  the  festive." 

After  the  Countess's  dinner  party,  I  several 
times  made  up  my  mind  to  pay  the  call  de 
rigueur ;  at  last  I  did  arrive  so  far  as  to  lift  my 
hand  to  ring  the  bell,  when  my  courage  failed  me 
and  I  beat  a  retreat.  I  had  a  small  row  with 
Chorley  in  consequence,  he  vowed  I  should  never 
again  receive  an  invitation  for  such  an  important 
function  ;  and,  moreover,  my  chance  of  stepping 


AN   EXIGENT  HOSTESS  53 

into  high  society  was  ended,  with  which  informa- 
tion I  was  deHghted,  though  I  did  not  let  him  into 
my  secret.  He  often  bewailed  my  lack  of 
ambition  to  scale  the  society  ladder,  but  finding 
me  incorrigible,  he  left  me  in  peace. 

A  lady  of  an  opposite  stamp  to  the  Countess, 
a  frequent  guest  at  Chorley's,  was  very  lavish  in 
her  encomiums  anent  my  singing  ;  she  invited 
me  on  two  or  three  occasions  to  her  parties,  but 
never  went  so  far  as  to  offer  me  the  hospitality 
of  a  dinner.  I  found  her  admiration  of  my  talents 
only  led  to  making  use  of  them  to  entertain  her 
friends  on  economical  principles.  The  day  after 
I  had  taken  my  usual  part  in  one  of  her  entertain- 
ments, a  footman  arrived  at  my  house,  bearer  of 
a  pineapple  with  her  ladyship's  compliments ; 
the  footman  had  disappeared  before  the  message 
was  brought  to  me,  or  I  would  have  sent  it  back 
with  my  compliments. 

To  the  next  invitation  her  ladyship  honoured 
me  with,  at  my  request  my  wife  replied  that  I 
was  singing  every  night  at  the  Opera,  and  had 
only  one  day,  Sunday — the  day  she  always  chose 
for  her  parties — to  get  a  little  rest,  and  she  must 
kindly  excuse  me.  She  showed  the  reply  to 
Chorley,  and  the  next  time  I  called  on  him,  he 
informed  me  in  a  most  impressive  manner,  that 
in  consequence  of  my  wickedness  he  never  could 
any  more  include  me  as  a  guest  at  his  own  parties, 
as  he  also  was  a  Sunday  entertainer. 

I   did  not  see  that  because  I  helped  him  to 


54        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

entertain  his  friends,  as  a  slight  return  for  his 
great  kindness  to  me,  I  was  bound  to  do  the  same 
for  a  person  who  could  afford  very  well  to  pay  for 
her  music  in  money,  not  in  patronage.  Her 
ladyship  was  in  the  habit  of  exacting  gratuitous 
service  from  any  new  musical  star  which  might 
appear  in  the  artistic  firmament,  on  the  strength 
of  her  having  risen  from  the  artistic  to  the 
aristocratic  ranks  herself.  The  victims  either 
had  not  the  courage  or  were  too  proud  to  make 
any  demand. 

On  one  occasion,  though,  she  met  with  a  Tartar 
in  the  shape  of  Viver,  the  celebrated  French-horn 
player.  He  was  playing  at  a  party  at  which  the 
heroine  of  our  narrative  was  present ;  of  course, 
she  made  up  to  him,  and  invited  him  on  the  spot 
to  favour  her  with  his  company  on  the  ensuing 
Sunday,  and  bring  his  instrument ;  he  went  and 
played  each  time  he  was  called  upon.  The  next 
day,  having  been  put  up  to  her  ladyship's  tricks, 
he  sent  her  a  reminder  that  his  terms  for  playing 
were  ten  guineas,  which  she  could  not  dispute  and 
consequently  had  to  pay.  I  cannot  help  chuckling 
when  I  know  of  such  meanness  meeting  with  the 
reward  of  merit.  Unfortunately,  there  is  no 
small  amount  of  such  patronage  offered  and 
accepted  on  the  strength  of  the  probability  of  its 
leading  to  paid  engagements,  which,  however, 
seldom  turn  up. 

At  the  present  time,  the  cheap  patronage 
system  is  much  in  vogue  ;   there  are  such  crowds 


CHEAP   PATRONAGE  55 

of  struggling  people,  that  any  bait,  however 
washed  out,  is  eagerly  snapped  at.  For  a  man 
it  is  bad  enough  to  turn  out  to  do  an  evening's 
work  when,  in  the  regular  course  of  things,  he 
would  be  about  retiring  to  rest ;  what  then  must 
it  be  for  a  girl,  who  must  be  dressed  tastefully, 
must  pay  for  a  conveyance  to  and  from  the 
scene  of  her  duties,  must  remain  there  until  the 
entertainment  finishes,  then  find  her  way  home 
alone  ? 

There  are  people  whose  consciences  are  so 
obtuse,  that  the  only  remuneration  they  ever 
think  of  offering  to  an  artiste  is  a  cup  of  tea  or 
glass  of  wine  and  some  empty  eulogy  of  their 
talents,  while  they  figure  as  warm  patrons  of,  and 
subscribers  to,  dogs'  and  cats'  homes  and  such-like 
charitable  institutions. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Mrs.  Fanny  Kemble  comes  on  the  Stage — My  Nerves  Agitated — 
"  Spikes  " — Taking  "  the  Bull  by  the  Horns  " — Tete  a  tetes — 
A  Nervous  Lady  Squashed — A  Promise  Redeemed — Osculation 
— A  Conceited  Old  Woman — Little  Tempers — A  Loveable  Old 
Lady — Her  admiration  of  Edmund  Kean — A  Pot-house 
Richard — Old  Actors  who  were  Great — Artificiality  of 
English  Tragedians — My  Brother-in-law — "  An  Eye  like 
Mars  " — His  Doubts  about  my  "  Status  " — A  Prime  Haunch 
of  Mutton — The  Tiger-slayer  in  Love — ^IVly  Cousin's  Precocity — 
Effects  of  Nervousness — Always  an  Old  Man — Effects  of  my 
Dull  Company. 

Fanny  Kemble  was  to  arrive  in  London  from 
America  shortly  after  our  marriage.  I  have  to 
confess  that  I  did  not  look  forward  to  meeting 
her  with  unalloyed  pleasure.  My  wife  and  her 
brother  and  sister  were  afraid  of  her,  and  imparted 
a  share  of  their  timidity  to  me.  I  was  desirous 
of  making  a  good  impression  as  far  as  my  singing 
was  concerned,  and,  despite  Aunt  Adelaide's 
adverse  criticism,  I  had  no  fear  ;  but  being  com- 
paratively a  raw  provincial,  I  did  feel  nervous 
about  my  A's  (in  Liverpool  that  letter  is  not  always 
a  distinctive  feature  in  conversation).  In  Italy 
I  had  neglected  the  study  of  ''  etiquette,"  and  I 
felt  I  was  altogether  unequal  to  the  task  of 
holding  converse  with  a  highly  educated  woman 
somewhat  intolerant  of  the  vagaries  of  youth. 

Notwithstanding,  the  ordeal  had  to  be  gone 
through,  so  I  girded  up  my  loins  and  accompanied 
my  wife  and  sister  to  the  tribunal.     Mrs.  Kemble 

56 


FANNY   KEMBLE  57 

was  very  amiable  to  me,  a  little  less  so,  I  fancied, 
to  her  nieces ;  for  a  short  time  we  got  on 
swimmingly ;  my  wife  picked  up  a  piece  of 
knitting  which  lay  on  the  sofa,  and  after  examining 
it,  she  asked  her  aunt  if  it  was  her  work.  ''  It 
is  my  work,"  replied  Auntie;  ''why  do  you  ask, 
child  ?  "  ''I  wondered  if  it  could  be,"  said  my 
wife,  ''it  is  so  dirty  !  "  With  fiery  glance  and 
inflated  nostril,  in  suppressed  tragic  tones  the 
offended  lady  pounced  on  her  shivering  niece  and 
remarked,  "  My  dear,  if  I  were  you  I  would  not 
touch  it,  you  might  soil  your  fingers." 

The  reprimand  was  just,  no  doubt,  but  there 
was  more  of  Lady  Macbeth  about  it  than  seemed 
necessary  in  the  cause  of  a  dirty  antimacassar. 
Tolerance  of  the  weaknesses  of  their  fellow- 
creatures  I  found  was  not  a  conspicuous  Kemble- 
onian  trait ;  the  dear  lady  often  attacked  me 
and  hit  hard.  I  found  that  her  ferocity  proceeded 
from  a  highly -strung  nervous  temperament,  acted 
on  by  the  grovelling  adoration  of  timid  devotees  ; 
not  caring  to  be  one  of  them,  I  took  the  bull  by 
the  horns  and  courteously  returned  her  a  Roland 
for  her  Oliver,  whenever  she  attempted  to  ride 
the  "  high  horse."  I  spent  many  an  afternoon 
tete  a  Ute  with  her  ;  I  became  callous  to  her  blows, 
and  let  her  hit  as  hard  as  she  liked  until  a  favour- 
able opportunity  occurred,  when  I  landed  my 
contribution  to  the  entertainment. 

One  of  our  merry  meetings  was  interrupted  by 
a  call  from  an  acquaintance  who  had  taken  upon 


58        REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

herself  to  present  a  friend — a  pretty,  delicate  2ittle 
Lady  something — pale  as  a  parsnip,  and  shix^ering 
with  fright,  as  though  she  were  about  to  be 
presented  to  the  polar  bear  in  the  Zoo  I  saw 
directly  by  the  inflated  nostril  and  heightened 
colour  that  Mrs.  Fanny  resented  the  intrusion 
on  our  sparring,  and  ere  long  there  would  be 
''  ructions." 

The  conversation  turned  on  a  book  recently 
published ;  after  sundry  arguments  with  regard 
to  its  merits,  for  her  sins  the  unfortunate  Countess 
timidly  advanced  her  opinion  ;  the  mine  exploded 
and  the  poor  little  creature  was  literally 
squashed. 

The  visit  ended  somewhat  abruptly.  I  noticed 
that  the  young  intruder  bowed  at  a  respectful 
distance  from  the  royal  presence,  and  disappeared 
with  alacrity.  Our  tete  d  tete  was  resumed  by 
Aunt  Fanny  with  a  volley  of  snorts  ;  I  waited 
until  she  had  ''  cooled  off,*'  then  began  my  Httle 
say  with  ''  How  on  earth  could  you  be  so  cruel  ?  '* 
''  What  do  you  mean,  Santley  ?  "  was  the  reply, 
made  with  an  air  of  dove-like  innocence.  ''  How 
could  you  find  of  your  heart,'*  I  pleaded,  ''  to 
drop  down  on  that  pretty  little  woman  like  a  load 
of  bricks  ?  I  expected  to  see  her  sink  through 
the  floor !  "  ''  Silly  little  fool,"  said  Auntie, 
''  she  did  not  know  what  she  was  talking  about." 
''  But,"  said  I,  "it  was  not  worth  while  getting 
into  such  a  tantrum  for  a  trifle  like  that ;  the  poor 
little  lamb."     "  Rubbish  !  "    exclaimed  Mrs.  K., 


FANNY   KEMBLE  59 

''  you  men  are  all  the  same,  a  pretty  face  is  excuse 
sufficient  for  anything  with  you  ;  you  are  as  great 
a  fool  as  the  little  lamb,  Santley ;  in  fact,  you  men 
are  a  pack  of  fools,  I  have  no  patience  with  you." 
Dear  old  lady,  she  was  not  overburdened  with 
patience  at  any  time  ;  still,  when  in  the  mood, 
she  could  be  as  affectionate  and  loving  as  the 
tenderest  lamb  in  creation. 

On  my  next  visit  I  found  her  in  one  of  her  most 
amiable  moods.  I  congratulated  her  upon  her 
happy  looks,  when  she  told  me  it  was  her  birthday, 
and  if  I  liked  I  might  kiss  her.  I  availed  myself 
of  her  permission,  and  imprinted  a  chaste  salute 
on  her  cheek,  and  we  had  a  very  jolly  time. 

One  of  the  last  times  I  visited  her  in  Queen 
Anne's  Mansions,  I  reminded  her  of  a  promise 
she  had  made  me  when  in  one  of  her  benevolent 
moods.  At  her  request  I  had  one  day  sung 
several  pieces  of  my  repertoire  for  her  sole  benefit. 
Maude  White,  who  accompanied  me,  was  the  only 
other  person  present.  She  expressed  herself 
greatly  pleased  and  ready  to  oblige  me  in  any 
way  that  lay  in  her  power.  I  closed  the  bargain 
at  once  by  asking  her  to  read  for  me  some  day 
when  she  felt  quite  in  the  vein  ;  she  promised  she 
would  do  so.  As  I  have  said,  I  reminded  her  of 
this  promise  ;  she  tried  to  shirk  it,  I  could  see, 
through  sheer  nervousness,  but  I  would  take  no 
denial,  I  insisted  on  exacting  my  pound  of  flesh. 
When  she  found  I  was  resolved,  after  a  few  snorts, 
she  ordered  me  to  get  the  book.     I  found  it  and 


60        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

placed  it  on  the  table  open  at  the  speech  I  desired 
to  hear,  Mark  Antony's  oration  from  ''  Julius 
Caesar."  I  felt  a  little  remorse,  for  the  dear  old 
lady  was  twitching  all  over  with  nervousness  ; 
but  I  would  not  budge  from  my  position  of 
dictator.  At  last,  pulling  herself  together  with 
a  sudden  start,  she  struck  the  book  with  her  fist, 
and  exclaimed,  **  Damn  it,  Santley,  why  should 
I  be  nervous  about  reading  before  you  ? ''  I 
murmured,  sotto  voce,  "  I  cannot  see  any 
reason,''  and  off  she  went.  It  was  fine,  I  enjoyed 
her  reading  immensely,  especially  as  I  had  it  all 
to  myself.  When  I  left  I  was  allowed  the 
privilege  of  another  osculation. 

She  was  a  dear,  good  woman,  nervous  to  an 
inordinate  degree,  which  accounted  for  the  wide 
variations  of  her  temper  barometer.  Like  my 
friend,  John  Bull,  she  resented  aggression ;  to 
folks  who  showed  they  were  afraid  of  her  she 
gave  no  quarter.  I  discovered  her  weakness, 
and  as  I  had  a  great  admiration  for  her,  I  studied 
how  to  smooth  the  knots  when  they  shot  out  too 
far  ;  I  even  went  so  far  as  to  indulge  in  a  little 
quiet  banter  judiciously  applied.  One  day  she 
was  indulging  in  a  great  tirade  about  something 
or  somebody,  and  it  struck  me  the  ego  pre- 
dominated more  than  was  necessary  ;  when  she 
came  to  a  pause,  I  quietly  remarked, ''  Do  you  know, 
madam,  that  you  are  a  conceited  old  woman  ?  " 

She  bounced  up  from  her  chair  aghast  at  my 
temerity.     She  almost  shouted,  ''  How  dare  you  ? 


MRS.    KEMBLE   ON   GREAT  ACTORS     61 

Do  you  know  that  nobody  ever  dared  to  speak 
to  me  so  before  ?  "  I  replied  with  a  smile,  ''  That 
is  a  pity,  for  it  is  a  positive  fact."  She  saw 
from  the  expression  of  my  countenance  that  I 
was  jesting,  and  she  soon  recovered  her  equanimity 
and  joined  in  the  laugh  against  herself  ;  but  she 
did  not  forget  it,  and  ever  after,  when  she  had 
been  giving  vent  to  a  burst  of  pungent  eloquence 
in  my  presence  she  invariably  concluded  with 
*'  although  I  am  a  conceited  old  woman,  dear  !  " 
Chorley  told  me  he  once  had  occasion  to  call 
on  her  rather  early  in  the  day,  before  visitors  are 
expected.  Whilst  waiting  in  the  drawing-room 
he  whiled  away  the  time  looking  at  the  articles 
of  vertu  it  contained,  among  the  rest  a  very 
handsome  porcelain  vase  which  had  sustained 
some  damage.  Her  eldest  daughter,  then  a  child 
of  eight  or  nine,  ran  into  the  room.  Chorley, 
putting  on  a  serious  look,  said,  "  I  hope,  my  dear, 
it  was  not  you  who  broke  this  precious  vase." 
''  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  replied  she,  ''  mother  and  I 
did  it  between  us ;  mother  and  I  have  devils  of 
tempers  !  "  Mrs.  Kemble  was  not  an  ill-tempered 
woman ;  she  was  naturally  hasty,  and  the 
unwholesome  adulation  which  had  been  showered 
upon  her  all  her  life  only  increased  her  impatience 
until  it  became  chronic.  A  little  wholesome 
opposition  in  her  early  days  would  have  been 
an  inestimable  boon  to  her  ;  the  love  her  excellent 
qualities  inspired  would  not  have  been  tarnished 
by  the  fear  which  her  hasty  temper  provoked. 


62        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

She  had  great  admiration  for  her  talented 
predecessors,  for  her  father  more  than  the  others. 
During  a  conversation  about  them,  I  asked  what 
was  her  opinion  of  Edmund  Kean.  She  said, 
**  I  have  seen  all  my  own  family,  and  the  fine 
actors,  their  contemporaries  and  successors ;  I 
have  seen  Talma  and  Modena,  but  the  greatest 
actor  I  have  ever  seen  was  Edmund  Kean  !  " 
Two  of  the  great  admirers  and  friends  of  the 
Kembles,  Fladgate  and  Harniss,  did  not  share 
her  opinion.  Fladgate,  when  we  spoke  on  the 
subject,  would  not  admit  that  Kean  could  compare 
with  John  Kemble. 

I  was  dining  one  evening  with  Harniss,  Dyce 
being  the  only  other  male  guest ;  when  the 
ladies  retired  and  we  were  left  alone,  the  conversa- 
tion turned  on  the  stage.  I  kept  respectfully 
silent,  being  so  much  younger,  and  anxious  to 
hear  all  I  could  about  the  great  actors  of  whom 
I  had  heard  and  read  much.  Dyce  said  some- 
thing in  eulogy  of  Kean  in  Macbeth  or  Lear  ; 
Harniss  turned  quickly  on  him  and  said,  *'  My 
dear  Dyce,  Kean  was  not  a  great  actor  ;  they 
said  his  Richard  was  the  finest  ever  seen.  I  say 
he  was  a  pot-house  Richard  I  " 

Comparing  these  two  diametrically  opposite 
opinions,  the  one,  that  of  a  highly  talented 
member  of  the  family,  herself  an  actress,  the 
other  that  of  a  friend  and  great  admirer,  but 
merely  a  spectator,  I  have  often  wondered  what 
my  impression  would  have  been  had  it  been  my 


DOUBTS   ABOUT   CELEBRITIES  63 

good  fortune  to  live  in  their  time.  I  must 
confess  to  having  doubts  about  some  of  the  great 
things  I  only  know  by  hearsay,  for  in  my  own 
time  I  have  heard  performances  bespattered 
with  praise  which  in  my  estimation  were  either 
inane  or  ludicrous,  sometimes  both.  Hamlet, 
in  his  advice  to  the  players,  distinctly  lays  down 
what  an  actor  ought  to  do,  yet  I  have  seen  many 
actors  of  undoubted  ability  who,  when  essaying 
the  part  of  Hamlet,  distinctly  ignored  that 
advice,  tearing  passion  into  tatters,  or  droning 
through  the  entire  part  in  wearisome  monotony. 
Alas  !  I  cannot  go  back  and  see  for  myself  ;  I 
content  myself  with  the  great  actors  now  passed 
away  or  retired  whom  I  have  had  the  good  fortune 
to  see,  Pauline  Viardot,  Giorgio  Ronconi,  Mario, 
on  the  lyric  stage  ;  Macready,  Charles  Fechter, 
Got,  Benjamin  Webster,  Samuel  Emery,  Fred 
Robson,  Charlotte  Cushman,  Adelaide  Ristori, 
Tommaso  Salvini  on  the  dramatic  stage,  all  of 
whom  were  great  in  any  line. 

I  wonder  why  it  is  that  many  English  actors 
invariably  ''  put  on  "  a  different  voice,  different 
walk,  different  everything  when  they  are  engaged 
in  delineating  any  of  Shakespeare's  tragic 
characters,  to  those  they  adopt  when  playing 
what  I  should  designate  **  character  parts,''  or 
parts  in  the  works  of  other  authors.  They  seem 
to  drop  any  attempt  at  being  natural  :  voice, 
walk,  action,  diction  all  artificial.  I  was  talking 
to   Fechter  on  the  subject   once,   after  his  last 


64        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

production  of  '*  Hamlet "  at  the  Lyceum ;  he 
said,  *'  The  only  defect  your  actors  have  is,  they 
none  of  them  know  what  they  are  capable  of  ; 
they  accustom  themselves  to  one  particular  line, 
and  are  often  mistaken  about  the  line  which 
suits  them  best !  " 

All  those  who  remember  him  must  remember 
what  a  fine  actor  Sam  Emery  was  ;  for  years  he 
had  confined  himself  to  such  parts  as  Captain 
Cuttle  J  Peggotty,  and  such  like.  When  Fechter 
gave  him  the  part  of  the  King  in  '*  Hamlet/' 
he  threw  up  his  hands  in  despair,  and  declared 
it  was  impossible,  he  never  could  play  it ;  Fechter 
insisted  he  not  only  could,  but  must,  and 
eventually  he  did,  with  the  result  that  his 
performance  was  as  fine  as  anything  in  the 
representation,  and  that  wasa  fine  one.  I  said  so 
to  Fechter.  ''  My  dear  boy,"  said  he,  ''  tell 
Sam  Emery  he  is  nothing  much  of  an  actor,  and  he 
will  merely  shrug  his  shoulders  and  not  even 
reply,  and  he  is  a  great  actor  ;  but  tell  him  he 
cannot  play  biUiards  (he  can't  play  a  bit),  and  he 
will  be  ready  to  murder  you." 

But  I  have  wandered  sufficiently  and  more. 
I  mounted  my  hobby ;  you  must  forgive  me. 
I  will  not  do  it  again — until  next  time  ?  I  have 
now  to  introduce  another  family  connection  in 
the  shape  of  my  brother-in-law ;  not  a  huge 
shape  certainly,  but  judging  from  his  awful  frown 
and  his  eye  like  Mars,  one  of  whose  sons  he  was, 
he  was  terribly  in  earnest.     He  had  gone  to  India 


Photo  by 


Ellis  Sf  Walery 


(Jupiter  Tonans  of  the  Lyrical   Hierarchy) 


MY   BROTHER-IN-LAW  65 

in  1857,  subaltern  in  one  of  the  East  India 
Company's  cavalry  regiments  ;  in  1859  he  was 
sent  home  in  charge  of  some  disbanded  troops. 
My  wife  was  in  some  trepidation  on  his  account, 
as  she  could  not  procure  any  tidings  of  the  ship 
he  sailed  in,  nor  of  the  probable  date  of  her  arrival. 

Towards  Christmas,  she  was  startled  by 
receiving  a  note  from  her  gallant  brother  informing 
her  that  he  had  safely  landed  a  fortnight 
previously.  On  being  upbraided  for  his  delay 
in  presenting  himself,  his  excuse  was  that  "  he 
wished  to  see  what  sort  of  person  it  was  upon 
whom  his  sister  had  bestowed  herself,  and  for 
that  purpose  he  had  waited  until  he  had  attended 
the  theatre  two  or  three  times  to  examine  him 
minutely.''  I  must  have  come  off  victorious 
in  my  involuntary  exam.,  for  he  soon  after  put 
in  an  appearance,  and  a  highly  amusing  relation 
I  found  him.  He  was  about  five  feet  four  in 
height,  which  grieved  him  sorely,  as  he  found  it 
difficult  to  make  an  impression  on  Afghans  or 
some  other  ^'ans,"  tall  athletic  fellows  whom  he 
had  to  keep  in  order. 

Aunt  Fanny,  when  I  confided  to  her  his 
grievance  that  he  was  so  short,  burst  forth  in 
scornful  accents,  ''  Short,  Santley  !  Henry  must 
remember  that  Frederick  the  Great  was  a  short 
man  ;  that  the  Cid  and  another  great  military 
hero  whose  name  I  don't  remember  were  likewise 
short  in  stature  ;  short  or  long,  what  man  had 
done  man  might  do  again,  if  he  possessed  the 

5— (2286) 


66        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

genius  for  leadership  "  ;  all  of  which,  though  a 
fine  specimen  of  declamation,  seemed  rather 
beside  the  question  of  Cornet  Kemble's  desire 
to  add  two  or  three  inches  to  his  height.  What 
he  lacked  in  stature  he  put  on  in  frown  ;  it  was 
a  frown — terrible  !  He  was  every  inch  a  military 
man  in  the  way  of  pomposity  ;  he  had,  of  course, 
wonderful  things  to  recount  of  tiger  and  other 
ferocious  animal  hunts.  I  do  not  question  their 
truth,  but  I  was  not  there  to  see  ;  had  I  been  in 
the  vicinity,  I  would  certainly  have  '*  made 
tracks  "  for  some  safe  spot  where  there  was  no 
risk  of  being  butchered  to  satisfy  a  wild  beast's 
lust  for  flesh. 

I  took  him  to  Dublin  to  keep  me  company 
during  one  of  our  Italian  opera  seasons.  An  old 
friend  of  mine  after  hearing  one  or  two  jungle 
stories  christened  him  *'  The  Tiger  Slayer,''  by 
which  name  he  was  always  known  among  our 
acquaintances  in  the  Irish  capital.  He  was 
anything  but  terrible  in  reality  ;  he  was  a  good- 
natured  lad,  clever  in  many  ways,  which  his 
oddities  prevented  him  putting  to  any  serviceable 
account ;  when  he  opened  his  mouth  he  had  a 
remarkable  knack  of  putting  his  foot  in  it 
(Hibernian  !).  During  his  short  stay  in  London, 
he  accompanied  us  one  evening  to  dine  with  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Heywood — the  latter  was  originally 
Miss  Louisa  Vinning,  who  in  her  youthful  days 
was  known  as  ''  The  Infant  Sappho."  The  roast 
was  a  very  fine  haunch  of  mutton,  which  the 


AN   AMOROUS   EPISODE  67 

host  told  us  had  been  hung  for  a  fortnight  to 
bring  it  to  perfection,  ''  but  perhaps/'  said  he, 
turning  to  the  Captain  (we  called  him  Captain 
for  short),  "  it  may  be  too  mature  for  you."  ''  Oh 
no  !  "  said  the  gallant  officer,  '*  I  don't  mind, 
its  all  one  to  me,  I  am  used  to  roughing  it !  " 

As  soon  as  we  were  comfortably  seated  in  the 
cab  to  go  back  to  our  castle,  my  wife  gave  vent 
to  her  feelings  thus  :  ''  You  are  the  greatest  fool 
I  ever  met,  Harry  ;  could  you  not  understand 
you  were  expected  to  praise  the  thoughtfulness 
of  your  hosts  in  providing  for  your  entertainment 
such  an  exquisite  dish?"  **  Bless  my  soul,  my 
dear,"  replied  poor  Pillicoddy,  "  I  thought  after 
being  kept  so  long  it  might  be  unfit  for  food,  and 
I  merely  wished  them  to  know  I  came  to  enjoy 
the  pleasure  of  their  company,  not  for  what  they 
gave  me  to  eat  !  "  Oh  J.  B.,  J.  B.,  I  only  wish 
I  could  think  you  were  as  innocent  as  this  gallant 
warrior  ! 

During  the  season  he  passed  with  me  in  Dublin, 
when  he  figured  as  ''  The  Tiger  Slayer,"  he  fell 
hopelessly  in  love  with  one  of  our  prima  donnas. 
She  was  a  very  witty  woman  ;  she  let  me  into 
the  secret  of  his  amorous  woes ;  as  I  knew  she 
was  only  playing  upon  his  boyish  devotion,  I  took 
the  first  opportunity  which  presented  itself  to 
enlighten  him.  He  had  worn  a  very  melancholy 
cast  of  visage  for  some  days  ;  at  last,  when  we 
were  alone  he  in  an  affectedly  casual  manner  said 
suddenly,    ''  What    age    is    that    young    person, 


68        REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

Charlie  ?  "  '*  What  young  person/'  said  I.  ''Oh  ! 
you  know  whom  I  mean,  so-and-so."  '*  Well," 
I  said,  ''I  should  say  about  forty-five."  ''  God 
bless  me,"  he  exclaimed,  ''  forty-five,  I  thought 
she  was  about  twenty-one  or  two."  ''  Forty- 
five,"  said  I,  ''  my  dear  Harry,  if  she's  a  day  !  " 
I  do  not  know  if  that  settled  the  matter,  but  I 
heard  no  more  about  it. 

Though  he  did  not  make  a  great  name  publicly, 
I  know,  spite  of  many  eccentricities,  he  was 
looked  upon  as  a  highly  efficient  officer ;  he 
retired  Major-General  a  few  years  ago  and  died 
towards  the  end  of  1907,  a  short  time  before  the 
death  of  our  cousin,  Henry  Kemble,  the  well- 
known  actor,  another  eccentric.  The  first  time  I 
saw  Henry,  he  was  a  boy  of  about  fourteen  with 
the  airs  of  a  man  of  forty  ;  he  called  at  our  house 
in  Grove  End  Road  just  after  we  had  finished  early 
dinner,  as  I  was  playing  at  Covent  Garden  at  the 
time.  There  was  some  port  on  the  table.  I 
asked  him  if  he  would  take  a  glass.  ''  Yes,"  he 
said,  ''but  if  it  is  not  taking  a  liberty,  and  you  have 
it  in  the  house,  I  would  much  prefer  a  glass  of 
claret."  Not  bad  for  fourteen,  I  thought.  The 
next  time  we  met,  I  was  coming  out  of  Rolandi's 
shop  in  Berners  Street ;  he  happened  to  be 
passing,  I  recognized  him,  and  called  out  to  him  ; 
he  turned  round  on  the  instant  and  put  his  thumb 
to  his  nose  and  spread  out  his  fingers,  at  the  same 
time  uttering  a  derisive  sound. 

When  I  met  him  again  I  reminded  him  of  his 


HENRY   KEMBLE  69 

impertinence  ;  his  explanation  was,  that  he  felt 
so  nervous  on  seeing  me  that  he  had  no  idea  what 
he  was  doing.  I  thought  it  was  a  very  curious 
and  rude  phase  of  nervousness,  but  I  let  him  off — 
with  a  caution.  He  ought  to  have  perpetuated 
the  Kemble  name  and  fame,  but  his  whole 
theatrical  career  was  marred  by  inordinate  self- 
consciousness.  His  sole  endeavour  from  the  first 
was  to  hide  himself  under  the  mask  of  the  tiresome 
old  fogey,  gouty  or  otherwise,  who  seems  a 
necessity  in  English  drama. 

Prepared  by  his  natural  inclinations  in  a  great 
measure,  his  old  men  were  more  tolerable  than 
they  are  usually  represented.  The  best  thing 
I  ever  saw  him  do  was  the  Wizard,  in  a  drama 
adapted  from  the  ''  Lady  of  the  Lake "  ;  he 
had  only  one  scene,  which  he  played,  I  might  say, 
perfectly ;  his  elocution  was  always  good,  and 
in  this  case  his  action  was  in  perfect  accordance 
with  his  elocution.  I  rated  him  soundly  for  not 
following  up  such  a  successful  trial,  to  no  purpose. 
Walter  Lacy  took  a  great  interest  in  him  as  a 
member  of  the  great  family  of  actors.  When  we 
were  discussing  his  prospects  in  the  beginning 
of  his  career.  Lacy  said,  ''  If  I  had  the  direction 
of  that  boy  I  would  make  him  play  Romeo  ^ 
Count  Osmond,  in  the  '  Castle  Spectre,'  and 
Hamlet,  to  try  and  work  him  out  of  his  self- 
consciousness,  as  he  has  capability  for  doing  good 
work  ;  he  is  simply  throwing  away  a  fine  career 
through    cowardice."     With    little    exception    he 


70        REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

confined  himself  to  his  favourite  old  men,  and 
died  a  comparatively  young  one. 

Until  I  returned  to  the  faith  of  my  forefathers 
he  was  a  constant  guest  at  our  house  on  Sunday  ; 
after  that  he  fell  off  by  degrees  until  at  last  we 
saw  no  more  of  him  ;  the  reason  he  assigned  was 
*'  he  found  my  company  too  dull.'*  I  found 
the  excuse  singular  ;  my  other  intimates  did  not 
remark  any  change  in  my  spirits,  and  I  could 
not  accuse  myself  of  any  diminution  of  lively 
regard  in  the  entertainment  of  my  guests. 

My  wife's  sister,  for  whom  I  had  a  great 
affection,  married  the  Rev.  Charles  Edward 
Donne,  eldest  son  of  William  Bodham  Donne, 
who  succeeded  my  wife's  father,  John  Mitchell 
Kemble,  as  licenser  of  plays.  After  a  few  years 
of  probation,  Charles  Donne  became  Vicar  of 
Faversham,  which  ofhce  he  held  until  a  few  years 
before  his  death,  which  occurred  in  1907. 


CHAPTER   VII 

Adventures  on  Sea  and  Land — Stormy  Channel — Storms  in 
Teapots — Travelling  with  Babies — The  Merry  Swiss  Boy — 
A  Dismal  Drive — Pay  for  Experience — The  utility  of  bargain- 
ing— A  Florentine  "  Curio  "  Dealer — A  Purveyor  of  Peaches — 
A  Basket  to  Carry  them — A  Slump  in  Umbrellas — All  for  Fun. 

Now  let  us  turn  our  attention  to  the  adventures. 
After  discussing  various  projects  for  an  agreeable 
holiday,  we  decided  upon  a  visit  to  Brunnen,  on 
the  Lake  of  Lucerne,  an  attractive  spot  for  its 
surrounding  scenery  and  its  moderation  as  to 
cost.  Our  party  consisted  of  No.  1,  my  wife, 
her  sister,  and — ''  Hey  diddle  diddle,  the  cat  and 
the  fiddle,  the  cow  jumped  over  the  moon  " — 
my  eldest  born,  Miss  Edith  Santley,  aged  four 
months,  with  her  nurse.  We  had  some  stirring 
times,  the  first,  crossing  from  Folkestone  to 
Boulogne  ;  there  blew  what  M.  Robert — a  weU- 
known  ticket  inspector  at  the  latter  place — used 
to  designate  ''  une  bonne  brise "  ;  it  certainly 
was  *'  bonne  "  in  the  sense  of  plenty. 

When  we  landed  at  Boulogne,  the  Paris  train 
had  departed,  so  we  had  leisure  to  recover  from 
the  effects  of  the  nautical  ballet  and  restore  our 
equanimity  before  continuing  the  journey.  My 
peace  of  mind,  which  had  been  considerably 
disturbed  by  unmerited  insinuations,  I  only 
recovered  on  making  a  firm  resolution  never  again 
to  travel  in  company  with  a  baby.     In  the  train 

71 


72        REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

I  entered  into  conversation  with  a  very  nice  little 
man  ;  we  chatted  pleasantly  for  some  time,  at 
last  he  offered  me  his  card,  saying  he  would  be 
very  pleased  to  accept  mine.  I  found  my 
acquaintance  was  W.  Harrison  Ainsworth.  What 
tantalizing  visions  that  name  created  in  my 
hungry  brain,  or  perhaps  it  would  be  more  true 
to  say,  stomach.  I  am  not  a  victim  to  sea- 
sickness— the  only  effect  the  sea  has  on  my 
anatomy  is  to  develop  a  craving  for  food  ;  I  was 
literally  starving  with  hunger,  and  had  only 
"  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision  "  of  those  huge 
pasties  supplied  to  Og  and  his  brethren  to 
subsist  on. 

Arrived  at  Bale  after  about  ten  hours'  journey, 
I  found  they  had  inscribed  on  the  luggage  ticket 
three  pieces  instead  of  four,  which  landed  me  in 
two  controversies,  one  with  the  railway  officials 
in  Swiss -German,  of  which  I  did  not  understand 
a  word,  and  one  in  English  with  madame,  which 
I  understood  but  too  well ;  the  first  ended  by 
taking  a  merry  Swiss  boy's  advice  and  weighing 
the  pieces  I  claimed ;  the  weight  was  found 
correct,  so  we  were  allowed  to  depart  in  peace, 
carrying  off  our  chattels  ;  the  second  burst  forth 
at  intervals  until  sweet  sleep  steeped  my  senses  in 
forgetfulness.  We  had  a  lovely  day  to  complete 
our  journey,  bright  blue  sky  above,  bright  green 
water  below,  everything  and  everybody  was  so 
bright  that  I  really  thought  rust  could  never 
more    clog   the    wheels   of   pleasure ;     but    soft ! 


OUR   FIRST   HOLIDAY  73 

let  us  not  anticipate  !  The  weather  was  irritating 
at  times^  the  weather-prophets  always ;  they 
would  never  admit  the  slightest  sign  of  rain, 
especially  if  a  boat  or  carriage  had  been  chartered 
to  make  an  excursion.  They  were  so  often 
mistaken  that  I  innocently  imagined  they  were 
not  adepts  at  forecast,  until  I  discovered  that 
though  the  merry  Swiss  boy  is  not  particularly 
intelligent  in  many  matters,  he  is  peculiarly  so 
when  the  raking  in  of  francs  is  concerned. 

I  wanted  to  make  some  purchases  at  Lucerne, 
so  consulted  my  landlord  with  respect  to  the 
feasibility  of  doing  the  journey  by  carriage 
instead  of  steamboat ;  he  declared  it  was  quite 
practicable  and  often  made  ;  with  a  pair  of  good 
horses  it  could  easily  be  accomplished  there  and 
back  in  a  day.  I  ordered  a  carriage  on  a  certain 
day  on  condition  that  the  weather  was  propitious. 
The  day  arrived,  the  sky  was  very  grey  and 
unpromising,  but  I  was  assured  the  glass  was 
rising  and  we  should  have  a  delightful  drive. 

Off  we  started,  baby  and  nurse  included,  some 
of  us  looking  a  trifle  glum.  I  kept  up  my  spirits 
until  we  got  as  far  as  Schwyz,  when  we  were 
treated  to  a  shower ;  we  had  not  gone  much 
further  when  we  had  to  close  the  carriage,  and 
the  remainder,  which  might  be  called  the  whole 
journey  to  Lucerne  and  back  to  Brunnen,  was 
performed  in  a  deluge.  That  was  bad  enough, 
but  the  storm  inside  the  vehicle  crushed  the  little 
spirit  I  had  left.     I  tried  to  get  forty  winks,  and 


74        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

forget  my  miseries,  but  there  was  no  rest  for  the 
wicked.  I  was  forced  to  exercise  patience,  and 
I  could  not  help  wondering  whether  Job,  amongst 
his  other  troubles,  had  ever  been  hermetically 
sealed  in  a  closed  carriage  with  a  fractious  baby, 
etc.,  etc. 

Our  hilarity  reached  a  climax  when  we  were 
crossing  the  bridge  over  the  Muotta  at  Schwyz 
on  our  way  back,  crash  went  something,  I  felt 
the  bridge  shake.  Good  God,  I  thought  (I  have 
a  lively  imagination), '  we  shall  all  be  drowned, 
and  my  innocent  babe  be  devoured  in  the  shape 
of  truite  au  bleu  by  unnatural  gluttons.  I  was 
wrong  (I  am  not  often  wrong,  it  is  only  when  I 
give  my  lively  imagination  too  much  rein  that 
I  make  a  mistake,  but  this  time  I  confess  to  having 
erred),  one  of  the  horses  slipped  on  the  slippery 
bridge,  and  the  carriage  pole  had  been  brought 
into  contact  with  one  of  the  stanchions,  and — 
well,  it  was  nearly  a  bad  accident. 

Here  is  where  the  merry  Swiss  boy's  intelligence 
manifested  itself ;  the  horses  had  been  eating 
their  heads  off  in  the  stable  for  two  or  three  weeks, 
and  the  carriage  required  an  airing,  so  we  were 
put  on  the  job,  "  Experientia  docet  I ''  A  dodge 
on  the  opposite  tack  was  tried  on  me,  in  which 
experience  befriended  me.  I  had  taken  a  carriage 
and  pair  of  horses  from  Fluelon  to  cross  the  St. 
Gothard  ;  at  Andermat  we  were  to  be  supplied 
with  an  extra  horse  to  the  Hospice  ;  we  had  a  good 
lunch,  and    when  ready    to  start  were  informed 


*'A   FRIEND   IN   NEED"  75 

there  was  not  a  single  horse  to  be  had  for  love  or 
money,  and  it  would  be  dangerous  to  attempt 
to  cross  the  pass,  as  a  thick  fog  prevailed. 

I  insisted  on  the  horse  being  found,  producing 
my  contract  wherein  was  laid  down  the  equine 
stipulation ;  I  gave  the  proprietress  of  the  hotel 
to  understand  that  not  a  penny  of  the  fare  would 
I  pay  if  the  horse  was  not  brought  forth  instanter. 
The  waiter,  whom  I  noticed  eyeing  me  very 
attentively,  at  last  asked  me  if  I  was  not  Mr. 
Santley.  I  said,  ''  I  am  Charles  of  that  ilk."  At 
his  request  I  related  my  grievance  ;  he  told  me 
he  used  to  be  Giuglini's  servant,  Giuseppe,  and 
I  then  recognized  him.  To  be  brief,  the  horse 
was  brought  forth,  and  in  a  few  minutes  we  w^ent 
on  our  way  rejoicing  ;  the  fog  must  have  retired 
at  the  double  quick,  for  there  was  no  sign  of  it 
all  the  way  to  Airolo. 

Experience  is  an  excellent  school,  if  people  will 
only  profit  by  it.  I  used  at  one  time  to  pay  what 
the  vendor  asked  me  for  an  article,  if  I  was 
desirous  to  possess  it.  I  learned  by  experience 
that  not  only  did  I  throw  away  my  money,  but 
I  was  called  a  fool  for  my  pains.  Now  I  never 
offer  more  than  one-fourth  of  what  is  demanded, 
and  I  cannot  recall  any  instance  in  which  I  have 
not  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  article  I  coveted 
at  my  price  or  a  mere  trifle  beyond. 

When  I  was  staying  in  Florence  the  first  time, 
I  saw  a  necklace  of  Egyptian  scarabei  which  I 
thought  my  wife  would  like.     John  Henry  Agnew 


76        REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

was  with  me ;  we  examined  it  through  the 
window ;  he  thought  it  was  genuine,  and  it 
appeared  so  to  me  ;  we  entered  the  shop  and 
looked  at  several  articles  of  vertu,  some  of  which 
struck  me  as  being  anything  but  virtuous  ;  at 
last  I  threw  my  eagle  glance  upon  the  coveted 
necklace  and  begged  to  know  what  the  article 
was  intended  for  ;  the  vendor,  surprised  at  my 
ignorance,  informed  me  it  was  a  valuable  necklace 
composed  of  real  Egyptian  scarahei.  He  was  so 
affectionate  in  his  description,  he  might  have 
been  an  intimate  friend  of  their  family  or  families  ; 
when  I  asked  the  price  he  went  off  into  ecstasies 
of  praise  of  their  beauty,  their  antiquity,  etc. 
I  had  to  threaten  to  leave  it  on  his  hands  to  bring 
him  to  the  point.  The  price  was  two  hundred 
and  fifty  francs,  so  I  merely  wished  him  good 
evening  and  walked  off ;  he  called  me  back  and 
said  he  was  open  to  an  offer,  which  I  declined  to 
make,  saying  the  price  I  would  offer  was  so  far 
below  his  ideas  that  it  was  useless  ;  we  had  a  long 
discussion,  three  times  I  left  the  shop  and  was 
hauled  back  by  the  collar.  I  offered  him  seventy 
francs,  he  declared  he  would  have  to  shut  up  his 
shop,  go  to  the  workhouse  or  drown  himself  in 
the  Arno,  and  so  on. 

At  last  J.  H.  A.  said  I  could  not  get  it ;  we  had 
to  dine  and  then  start  in  a  short  time  for  Bologna, 
or  I  would  have  succeeded,  but  as  time  pressed 
and  my  friend  was  importunate,  I  (foolishly,  I 
admit)  took   out  four   napoleons   (eighty  francs) 


BARGAINING  77 

and  displayed  them  in  a  line  before  his  greedy  eyes, 
saying,  "  Take  that,  and  we  conclude  the  bargain. 
Yes  or  no,  and  not  another  word  or  I  will  leave 
your  necklace."  I  secured  it  for  eighty  francs. 
I  have  always  been  sorry  I  did  not  stick  to  my 
first  offer,  I  should  have  got  the  necklace  all  the 
same.  Young  travellers,  take  note — make  up  your 
mind  and  never  budge  ;  nine  times  out  of  ten  you 
will  save  your  money  and  not  rob  anybody. 

I  went  to  buy  peaches  in  the  market  at  Milan 
a  few  years  ago.  Some  fine  ones  caught  my  eye, 
an  elderly  female  was  bargaining  for  some  of 
them,  and  I  heard  the  price  arranged,  being 
au  fait  at  meneghin  (Milanese  dialect).  When  the 
customer  moved  off  I  mentioned  I  also  wanted 
a  supply.  When  they  were  chosen  and  weighed, 
I  asked  the  price  :  ''  So  much."  ''  Pardon,  my 
dear  madam,  you're  making  a  mistake ;  that 
person  just  departed  paid  so  much."  ''  Oh  no  ! 
they  are  so  much  and  I  could  not  take  less." 
''  Then,  dear  lady,  you  may  keep  them  !  " 

Another  purveyor  at  the  next  stall  called  out 
that  he  had  quite  as  good  fruit — that  finished  the 
dispute  ;  I  had  my  peaches  at  my  price,  which 
was  a  considerable  reduction  on  that  the  seller 
demanded.  I  then  looked  about  to  find  a  basket 
to  carry  them  in,  as  I  was  starting  for  the  Lago 
Maggiore,  and  could  not  accommodate  them  in 
my  pockets.  I  spotted  my  affair,  and  asked  the 
price  of  several  others ;  but  the  old  shopwoman 
was  deep  and  spotted  my  dodge,  she  demanded 


78        REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

five  francs.  I  offered  one  and  a  half,  and  for 
my  temerity  was  consigned  to  a  certain  warm 
place  which  I  hope  never  to  visit. 

My  equanimity  was  not  ruffled  in  the  slightest 
degree,  and  as  I  was  not  in  company  with  an 
impatient  fellow-traveller,  I  got  my  own  way. 
I  think  the  dear  woman's  excuse  for  giving  way 
so  readily  was  that  she  could  not  find  in  her  heart 
to  refuse  such  a  handsome  man  ;  however,  as  it 
is  just  possible  I  may  have  dreamt  that,  I  will 
not  insist  on  it.  The  peaches  were  not  a  dream, 
they  were  a  reality,  they  might  truly  have  been 
called  a  poem. 

I  must  tell  one  other  story  of  a  purchase  during 
my  student  days,  in  which  I  was  the  party 
responsible  for  the  money,  but  it  was  made  by 
an  agent.  I  wanted  an  umbrella,  and  asked  my 
Italian  professor  if  he  could  point  me  out  a  good 
shop  where  I  could  get  one  at  a  moderate  price. 
He  insisted  upon  accompanying  me  in  my  quest, 
and  it  was  well  he  did.  I  chose  the  article  I 
wanted  without  pointing  it  out  to  the  seller.  The 
price  was  twenty-five  francs,  which  after  an  hour's 
discussion,  diminished  to  eleven  Italian  lirey 
something  under  ten  francs  in  the  money  of  that 
time,  1855.  I  rather  took  a  fancy  to  bargaining  ; 
I  am  not  covetous ;  it  was  good  fun,  and  I  had 
no  scruples  of  conscience,  as  I  was  quite  aware 
that  whatever  price  I  ultimately  paid,  it  left 
sufficient  margin  for  the  merchant's  profit. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

Compact  with  Reeves  &  Co. — A  Swiss  Hotel — Different  Ideas  of 
Cleanliness — Excursion  to  Altdorf — Missed  the  Last  Boat  back 
— Storms  (various)  Brewing — Fair  Weather — "  Robin  Hood  " 
at  Her  Majesty's  Theatre — Emma's  Devotion — A  Short  Life 
and  a  Merry  One — Dinner  at  Norwood — My  New  Hat. 

We  must  get  back  to  Brunnen,  for  I  have  still 
to  recount  the   Reeves  episode.     I   was  already 
looked    upon    as    an    intimate    friend     by    the 
great  tenor;    his   wife,   the    redoubtable   Emma, 
condescended  to   patronize  me  in    a  gracious  ex 
prima  donna  fashion,  and  actually  went  so  far  as 
to  declare  I  could  sing — a  bit  !     They  were  both 
anxious  to  learn  where  I  was  going  to  spend  my 
holiday,  and  when  I  told  them  of  Brunnen,  its 
beautiful  position  on  the  Bay  of  Uri,  the  facilities 
it  offered  for  excursions  on  foot  or  by  carriage  or 
boat,  and  by  no  means  least,  the  moderate  expense 
of  living,  they  made  up  their  minds  on  the  instant 
that  it  was  just  the  place  they  had  been  seeking. 
They  would  have  accompanied  us  on  the  journey, 
but  I  escaped  that  (I  had  a  vision  of  John  cooped 
up  with  a  baby)  by  saying,  as  I  was  not  quite  a 
millionaire  yet,  we  were  going  to  travel  second 
class.     It  was   then  agreed  that   Mrs.  R.  would 
inform  us  of  the  date  of  their  arrival  in  order  that 
we  might  have  their  rooms  quite  prepared. 

Having  had  no  small  experience  of  what  her 
ladyship   deemed   preparation,   I   felt   somewhat 

79 


80        REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

anxious  about  the  fulfilment  of  her  desires  in  a 
small  place  little  frequented  by  English  travellers 
at  that  time.  Our  hotel,  which  was  the  most 
important  in  the  place,  was  exceedingly  well  kept ; 
the  proprietor,  a  ''  landamman,"  and  a  Colonel 
in  the  Swiss  army,  a  highly-educated,  courteous 
man,  a  bachelor.  His  two  sisters  superintended 
the  household  arrangements ;  the  elder  spoke 
English  fluently,  always  on  the  qui  vive  to 
administer  to  the  comfort  of  their  guests,  and 
mad  about  music.  The  rooms,  primitively 
furnished,  were  pictures  of  order  and  cleanliness, 
floors  scrubbed  and  polished,  linen  white  as  nip, 
in  fact,  everything  the  most  exacting  housewife 
could  desire  ;  but  there  are  desires  which  soar 
above  all  earthly  calculation,  and  thus  it  was 
with  Mrs.  R. 

Acting  upon  my  suggestions,  rooms  allotted 
to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Reeves  had  been  scrubbed  and 
re-scrubbed,  polished  and  re-polished  ;  a  dozen 
or  so  of  towels  were  distributed  about  the  bed- 
chamber, with  a  reserve  bundle  ready  to  hand  in 
case  of  emergency.  Judge  of  my  consternation 
when  Miss  Aufdermaur,  whom  I  had  only  known 
as  a  most  pacific,  good-natured  lady,  bounced 
into  my  room,  red  as  a  turkey  cock,  and  declared 
that  were  it  not  for  me,  she  would  have  those 
people's  goods  and  chattels  put  out  of  doors 
forthwith.  The  lady,  not  being  satisfied  with 
the  pains  which  had  been  taken  for  her  comfort, 
had  no  sooner  entered  their  room  than  she  emptied 


A   TRIP   TO   ALTDORF  81 

jugs  and  cans  of  water  over  the  floor,  which  at 
that  moment  she  was  poHshing  with  the  clean 
towels  provided  for  personal  use.  The  house 
was  turned  upside  down ;  ''  the  peace  of  the 
valley  "  was  destroyed  for  a  time,  but  when  our 
new  guests  found  they  could  not  do  better,  they 
calmed  down. 

After  a  few  days  they  went  off  to  Lucerne, 
Mrs.  R.  remarking  to  my  wife,  *'  It  was  aU  very 
well  for  Santley,  but  her  husband  was  not 
accustomed  to  dirt,  and  could  not  put  up  with 
it."  I  was  not  present  at  the  interview,  and  did 
not  witness  the  fun,  but  I  fancy  there  must  have 
been  an  amusing  encounter  between  Tragedy  and 
Comedy. 

At  parting  we  arranged  to  make  an  excursion 
together  to  Altdorf  a  day  or  two  later ;  the 
Reeves's  were  to  leave  Lucerne  by  an  early  boat, 
and  take  me  and  my  sister-in-law  up  at  Brunnen. 
The  day  arrived,  and  shortly  before  we  expected 
the  steamer  a  telegram  was  handed  to  me  to 
say  they  had  missed  the  first  boat  and  would 
come  on  by  a  later  one  ;  this  upset  all  our  arrange- 
ments ;  we  had  little  time  to  pay  our  respects 
to  the  Swiss  patriot,  dinner  was  put  off  until  the 
last  moment,  the  last  boat  to  return  started  at 
5.30.  Mrs.  R.  had  to  arrange  her  tresses,  and 
when  we  arrived  at  the  landing-place  the  steamer 
was  already  a  considerable  distance  on  her  way 
to  Brunnen.  The  merry  Swiss  boys,  moved  by 
a  prospect  of   "  backsheesh,"    declared  there  was 

6— (2286) 


82        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

every  appearance  of  a  storm  brewing — there  was, 
alas  !  but  not  on  the  lake — ''  my  prophetic  soul/' 
murmured  Caudle  !  The  attempt  to  return  by 
boat  was  abandoned,  as  also  was  a  wild  project 
suggested  by  the  ''  cause  of  all  our  woe,"  to  do 
the  journey  by  carriage,  *'  over  the  hills  and  far 
away,"  when  she  was  informed  it  would  occupy 
ten  to  twelve  hours,  and  take  a  large  amount  of 
*'  gilt  off  the  gingerbread." 

There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  pass  the  night 
under  the  auspices  of  William  Tell,  and  ''  go 
home  with  the  milk  in  the  morning."  Then  the 
fun  began  in  right  down  earnest  ;  the  rooms  had 
to  be  allotted,  and  when  at  length,  after  many 
changes — his  majesty  had  to  lie  in  a  particular 
direction,  N.W.  to  S.E.,  with  his  back  to  the 
window — it  was  found  that  the  room  ultimately 
chosen  for  his  accommodation  was  over  the 
kitchen  and  well  warmed  by  the  flue.  Another 
change  was  proposed,  but  I  turned  Turk  and 
refused  to  take  the  hint.  The  floor  of  the  chosen 
apartment  had  to  be  scrubbed — the  flue  came 
in  useful  in  shortening  the  drying  process — linen 
had  to  be  changed,  the  usual  array  of  towels 
provided,  and  crevices  stopped  up  that  *'  the 
winds  of  Heaven  might  not  visit  his  face  too 
roughly." 

We  had  to  make  an  expedition  to  purchase 
hair  brushes,  tooth  brushes,  and  powder,  and 
combs ;  all  of  which  turning  out  too  ordinary 
for    Emma's    use    were    handed    over    to    my 


WELCOME   BACK  83 

sister-in-law,  who  was  highly  amused  at  the  delicate 
attention.  All  bobberies  come  to  an  end  ;  this 
one,  as  far  as  I  was  concerned,  ended  in  a 
tournament  with  Morpheus.  We  arose  with  the 
lark,  took  our  departure  by  the  first  steamer,  and 
arrived  at  Brunnen  in  time  for  breakfast,  seasoned 
with  a  good — wigging  ! 

I  did  not  see  any  more  of  the  Reeves's  until 
we  met  at  the  rehearsals  of  ''  Robin  Hood  "  at 
Her  Majesty's  Theatre.  I  say  we,  because  though 
Madam^e  was  not  engaged  in  any  direct  capacity, 
she  was  indirectly  actively  employed.  Gar  die 
(short  for  Edgardo)  required  much  attention — 
at  times  I  thought  he  received  more  than  he 
cared  about.  We,  the  rest  of  the  company,  were 
favoured  with  attentions,  too,  but  of  a  totally 
different  class  ;  they  were  mostly  in  the  way  of 
extracting  the  beams  from  our  orbs,  planting 
spokes  in  our  wheels,  and  damning  with  faint 
praise  our  feeble  attempts  to  emulate  the  artistic 
talent  of  the  only  John. 

She  did  not  always  "  have  it  all  her  own  w^ay." 
Madame  Lemmens,  to  whom  she  was  very 
attentive,  had  a  nice,  pleasant,  innocent  way 
of  planting  a  dart  (not  Cupid's)  in  a  tender  part, 
with  a  smile  that  only  increased  the  smart,  and 
Emma,  who  was  not  quick  at  repartee,  had  to 
beat  a  hasty  retreat  to  cover  her  chagrin.  We 
men  all  had  our  turn,  but  we  acted  in  the  lenient 
spirit  of  Rudolf  in  ''  Lurhne,"  who,  apostrophizing 
his  absent  love — perhaps  she  had  been  flirting — 


84        REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

is  made  to  say  by  the  poet,  Fitzball,  '*  She  is  a 
woman,  therefore  I  forgive  her  !  "  We  did  forgive, 
I  am  sure,  all  of  us  ;  her  little  attentions  were 
a  source  of  amusement,  they  relieved  the  monotony 
of  the  dull  rehearsals.  Halle  was  not  hilarious, 
and  Jack  was  ruminative,  perhaps  pondering  on 
his  chance  of  success  in  stringing  Robin  Hood's 
bow  ;  or  it  may  be  the  attentions  of  his  spouse 
may  have  had  a  depressing  effect ;  she  certainly 
used  to  indulge  in  strange  vagaries,  as  for  instance, 
when  Gardy  played  Captain  Macheath  in  '*  The 
Beggar's  Opera."  Whilst  singing,  '*  When  the 
heart  of  a  man  is  oppressed  with  care,"  Reeves 
sat  on  a  table.  Before  the  scene  opened  Emma 
used  to  take  the  precaution  of  having  the  table- 
cloth aired  for  an  hour,  and  with  her  own  fair 
hands  ironed  the  table  top,  that  there  might  be 
no  risk  of  Gardie  catching  a  chill ! 

The  dear  little  woman  had  a  notion  that  I 
was  encroaching  on  her  husband's  preserves ; 
the  fact  was,  I  had  found  out  the  capabilities  of 
my  voice  during  the  opera  season  at  Covent 
Garden,  and  like  all  young  people,  did  not  scruple 
to  stretch  my  full-fledged  wings  and  soar  into 
more  elevated  regions  than  I  had  attempted 
before,  but  I  had  not  the  remotest  idea  of 
encroaching  on  anybody's  ground.  ''  The  green- 
eyed  monster  "  found  an  early  occasion  to  show 
its  teeth  and  use  them,  but,  fortunately,  the  bite 
proved  harmless. 

One  evening  I  was  singing  the  small  part  of 


A  DEEP-LAID   PLOT  85 

The  Man  of  God  in  Costa's  *'  Eli/'  at  Exeter 
Hall.  Having  little  to  do  except  listen,  I  had 
ample  opportunity  to  look  about  me ;  in  the 
directors'  gallery  whom  should  I  espy  but  my  dear 
little  Emma,  bedecked  and  gay,  in  close  con- 
fabulation with  friend  Chorley  of  the  AthencBum. 
Their  conversation  was  evidently  of  absorbing 
interest,  as  they  were  not  paying  the  slightest 
attention  to  the  music ;  the  grave  expressions 
on  their  faces  and  solemn  wag  of  their  heads 
denoted  that  mixture  of  horror  and  sadness  with 
which  Virtue  denounces,  while  pitying,  Vice. 

My  guardian  angel  whispered,  ''  Look  out,  my 
boy,  they're  going  for  you !  "  They  were.  I 
looked  out  and  I  saw  in  the  next  issue  of  the 
AthencBum — which  Chorley  sent  me  that  there 
should  be  no  mistake — ''  Mr.  Santley  is  making 
great  progress  in  public  estimation,  but  if  he 
insists  on  forcing  the  upper  register  of  his  voice, 
he  will  have  a  short  life,  if  a  merry  one.''  I 
apostrophized  Emma  in  a  short  but  pithy 
versicle  beginning  with  a  D,  not  the  initial  of 
Dear  !  The  smart  of  the  wound  lasted  but  for 
a  moment ;  it  takes  a  much  harder  knock  than 
such  as  that  to  make  any  impression  on  a 
Liverpudlian  hard  head  and  tough  skin 
accustomed  to  the  rude  sallies  of  ''  Dicky 
Sammian  "  wit. 

Dear  Emma  ought  to  have  been  a  chiropodist, 
she  possessed  such  a  remarkable  talent  for  cutting 
corns.     She    took    amazing    pains    with    mine  ! 


86        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

I  was  dining  at  Reeves  castle  once,  when  Arthur 
Sulhvan  and  Fred  Clay  were  of  the  party.  Fred 
exclaimed  that  a  dish  of  which  we  were  partaking 
was  "  fumato  "  (meaning  smoked).  I  said,  '*  No, 
Fred,  ^  affumicato '  is  Italian  for  smoked." 
'*  What  did  you  say,  Santley  ?  "  says  Emma. 
''  I  did  not  say  anything  particular,  dear  !  " — 
I  said  "  dear  "  this  time  because  I  felt  there  was  a 
blow  coming,  and  I  thought  I  would  soften  it  to 
avoid  the  risk  of  making  a  rude  exhibition  before 
the  family  and  guests.  "  Yes  you  did,  you  said 
*  aff^z^micato,' — that  is  the  u  pronounced  as  in 
English."  ''  I  am  sure  I  did  not,  but  as  I  don't  like 
to  contradict  a  lady,"  I  said,  ''  I  must  have 
pronounced  the  word  Milanese  fashion."  ''  Ah," 
said  the  ^^dear,"  ''  I  knew  there  was  something, 
for  I  always  maintain  if  you  could  only  pronounce 
English  as  well  as  you  pronounce  Italian,  you'd 
do  !  "  Gardie  apostrophized  this  time,  somewhat 
tartly,  but  without  any  big  D's. 

Another  was  cut  when  a  party  of  us  went  to 
Bowley's  house,  after  we  had  sung  at  a  ''  Ballad 
Concert  "  in  the  Crystal  Palace.  I  cannot 
determine  whether  the  corn  was  mine  or  Gardie' s, 
or  whether  there  were  two  corns,  one  each.  I  wore 
a  new  hat  which  drew  forth  a  shower  of  compli- 
ments from  her  ladyship  and  also  from  Gardie, 
whose  attention  she  had  directed  to  my  elegant 
new  ''  topper "  ;  he,  too,  was  complimentary, 
and  asked  me  where  I  purchased  it.  I  told  him. 
''  Ah  yes,"  said  he,  ''  that's  where  my  coachman 


A   DEVOTED   HELPMATE  87 

buys  his  hats."  This  sounds  rather  Hke  a 
''chiropodical"  operation,  but  I  am  sure  he  didn't 
intend  it. 

I  began  to  think  it  was  about  time  I  had  a 
''  look  in,"  so  I  suggested  in  a  modest  way  that 
perchance  it  was  the  head  under  the  hat  that 
gave  it  the  elegant  appearance  it  did  not 
intrinsically  possess.  My  modest  suggestion  was 
received  with  derisive  laughter  by  the  charming 
fair  one.  ''  Pooh,"  said  she,  ''  they  talk  of 
handsome  fellows,  they  say  that  Willoughby 
Weiss  is  one  (he  was  really  a  fine,  handsome 
specimen  of  humanity),  and  I've  heard  some 
empty-pated  girls  talk  about  you  ;  you  may  both 
of  you  be  all  right  as  far  as  the  inside  of  your 
heads  is  concerned,  but  if  you  want  to  see  a 
handsome  outside,  you  must  look  at  Gar  die  !  " 
My  father,  who  was  present,  nearly  exploded 
with  laughter  at  this  rather  doubtful  example 
of  a  devoted  wife's  appreciation.  Some  of  the 
guests  who  heard  the  fun,  joined  my  father  in 
the  guffaw  ;  Gardie  did  not,  and  poor  Emma  in- 
dulged in  a  number  of  bars  tacet.  With  all  her 
amusing — though  occasionally  pungent — foibles, 
she  was  a  thorough  artiste  and  a  devoted  help- 
mate. I  believe  she  would  have  made  a  dash 
at  the  moon,  if  by  chopping  off  a  bit  for  him  she 
could  have  procured  a  moment's  happiness  for 
her  lord  and  master. 


CHAPTER  IX 

Intimacy  with  Reeves — His  Moderate  Habits — Contradiction 
from  Personal  Knowledge  of  Public  "  Dictum  " — "  Judas 
Maccabaeus"  at  Clifton — Winter  Garden,  Blackpool — Japanese 
Tommy — Irish  Concert,  Exeter  Hall — "  Tam  O'Shanter,"  St. 
James's  Hall — A  "  Green  "  Tenor — Uncharitable  Accusation 
of  Public  Characters — My  own   Case — A  Wife-beater. 

I  MUST  crave  indulgence  for  making  this  long 
digression,  and  yet  a  little  more  patience  while 
I  continue  it.  I  have  been  trying  to  amuse,  and 
now  I  want  to  interest  my  readers  in  a  subject 
which  for  many  years  I  have  had  at  heart,  more 
particularly  since  the  death  of  my  old  friend  and 
comrade  Reeves. 

In  the  whole  course  of  my  life  I  have  never 
known  a  man  so  belied ;  it  was  commonly  stated 
that  his  abuse  of  stimulants  was  the  sole  cause 
of  his  so  frequently  disappointing  the  public  by 
non-fulfilment  of  his  engagements.  I  emphatically 
deny  that  statement ;  we  were  intimate  friends, 
constantly  engaged  in  the  same  performances 
from  the  year  1858  until  a  few  months  before  he 
died.  I  had  every  opportunity  of  knowing  him 
intimately,  and  I  declare  I  have  never  met  a  more 
moderate  man  as  regards  either  eating  or  drinking. 
When  there  was  work  to  be  done,  I  often  urged 
him  to  take  an  extra  glass  of  wine,  as  he  was  one 
of  the  most  nervous  human  beings  I  ever  knew, 
and  I  thought  an  extra  drop  would  give  him  a 

88 


Photo  bv 


Barraiid 


'y'^^*^ 

cJ^ 


REEVES  IN  "  JUDAS  MACCABEUS  "     89 

touch  of  Dutch  courage^  but  I  never  knew  him 
to  take  my  advice. 

When  there  was  no  work  to  be  done,  he  was  as 
jolly  as  a  boy  home  from  school  for  the  holidays  ; 
even  then  he  never  exceeded  his  customary  two 
or  three  glasses  of  claret  or  occasionally  Burgundy. 
He  was  at  all  times  exceedingly  anxious  and 
nervous  about  his  voice  ;  many  and  many  a  time 
he  had  not  the  courage  to  dress  for  a  concert,  and 
sent  an  excuse  at  the  last  moment  for  his  non- 
appearance, and  an  hour  after  bitterly  regretted 
the  disappointment  it  would  cause,  not  to  speak 
of  the  considerable  pecuniary  loss  he  himself 
would  sustain. 

The  first  time  I  sang  in  ''  Judas  Maccabaeus  " 
with  him  was  at  the  Queen's  Rooms,  Clifton,  in 
1858.  He  did  not  turn  up  at  rehearsal ;  I  found 
him  at  the  hotel  when  I  returned,  in  a  very 
despondent  state ;  he  said  he  felt  bad  and  would 
not  be  able  to  sing  at  night.  Being  only  a  novice, 
I  did  not  like  to  obtrude  my  advice,  I  merely 
hinted  that  he  might  feel  better  disposed  for  work 
after  a  good  meal.  He  sent  two  prescriptions  to 
be  made  up  by  the  chemist,  one  a  draught,  the 
other  a  gargle  ;  when  they  were  brought  to  him, 
after  examining  them  he  made  up  his  mind  the 
bottles  had  been  improperly  labelled,  and  put 
them  aside  ;  he  made  a  very  poor  dinner,  he  ate 
little  and  drank  a  glass  of  claret. 

Before  going  over  to  the  concert  room,  I  looked 
in  upon  him ;    he  said  he  felt  a  little  better  and 


90        REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

would  be  over  in  time  for  his  work.  He  came, 
and  skipped  through  the  first  recitative,  but  in 
the  air,  ''  Call  forth  thy  powers,"  he  did  call  them 
forth,  and  they  answered  him  in  such  a  style  that 
the  audience  burst  forth  in  a  storm  of  applause 
and  thus  relieved  him  of  all  anxiety.  His  power 
and  energy  increased  as  he  went  on.  *'  How 
vain  is  man "  was  splendid,  and  ''  Sound  an 
alarm  ''  magnificent,  as  he  alone  could  sing  it  in 
my  time. 

A  few  years  after,  we  were  singing  together  at 
the  Winter  Garden,  Blackpool.  I  was  in  the 
green-room  when  he  came  in  ;  he  had  got  a  fit 
of  ''  nerves "  ;  he  said  he  would  give  twenty 
pounds  if  he  could  go  back  to  the  hotel,  for  he 
felt  he  had  no  voice  and  could  not  sing  a  note. 
I  rallied  him,  and  proposed  that  if  he  could  not 
sing,  he  should  whistle  his  songs,  as  the  pubhc 
would  never  be  satisfied  unless  at  least  they  saw 
him.  He  smiled  faintly  ;  I  left  the  room  and 
planted  myself  in  the  wings  to  listen  to  his  first 
song,  Sullivan's  ''  Meet  me  once  again ''  ;  his 
trousers  were  positively  shaking.  The  first  bar 
or  two  sounded  as  though  he  had  plums  in  his 
mouth,  but  he  forgot  himself  and  his  dismals, 
and  he  ''  pulled  the  house  down."  His  second 
was  the  *'  Bay  of  Biscay,"  which  produced  a 
storm  such  as  that  delightful  bay  can  produce, 
without  the  mal  de  mer  attendant  thereon. 

It  may  have  been  he  felt  I  was  a  sincere  friend 
and  ardent  admirer,  but  I  could  always  induce 


JAPANESE   TOMMY  91 

him  to  sing  when  he  was  for  ''  giving  up  the  ghost " 
any  time  when  we  were  singing  together.  After 
the  concert,  there  was  to  be  a  performance  by 
Japanese  acrobats.  I  stopped  to  have  a  look 
at  them.  I  noticed  a  boy,  who  went  by  the 
name  of  Japanese  Tommy  (I  afterwards  found 
there  is  a  Tommy  attached  to  every  Japanese 
company).  I  spoke  to  him;  he  answered  with 
something  hke  a  grunt,  which  I  supposed  must  be 
Japanese  for  ''  don't  understand."  I  then  put 
the  plain  question  to  him  very  distinctly  :  ''  Do 
you  find  English  a  difficult  language  to  learn  ?  " 
''  Is  it  Enghsh  ?"  says  he,  with  a  remarkably  thick 
brogue — "  shure  I'm  Irish."  He  was  so  well 
made  up  that  I  took  him  for  a  native  of  Japan. 

About  thirty  years  ago,  as  far  as  I  can  guess, 
the  Annual  Irish  Concert  on  St.  Patrick's  Day, 
arranged  by  Mr.  W.  Saunders,  had  to  be  given 
at  Exeter  Hall,  as  St.  James's  Hall  had  been 
taken  for  the  "  pops,"  or  some  other  series  of 
concerts.  Reeves,  of  course,  was  the  principal 
attraction.  As  usual,  the  room  was  packed. 
I  arrived  about  ten  minutes  before  the  concert 
commenced,  and  found  that,  unfortunately,  my 
friend  Jack  was  laid  up  with  a  cold,  and  had 
deferred  notifying  the  director  until  the  last 
moment,  hoping  to  be  able  to  fulfil  his  engagement, 
too  late  for  a  substitute  to  be  found.  I  offered 
to  sing  his  first  song  to  help  the  manager  out  of 
his  dilemma.  Before  I  went  on,  Saunders  tried 
to  say  a  few  words  to  the  audience,  but  he  had  no 


92        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

sooner  shown  himself  on  the  platform  than  the 
furies  broke  loose  and  hooted  him  off. 

I  went  on  determined  to  do  battle  for  my 
comrade.  The  audience  had  the  courtesy  to 
suspend  their  rage,  and,  after  greeting  me  with 
some  applause,  to  remain  silent.  Sidney  Naylor 
had  no  sooner  started  the  prelude  to  the  song 
than  the  storm  broke  out  afresh.  I  leaned  my 
back  against  the  piano  and  calmly  watched  the 
play  ;  the  noise  abated  and  at  last  ceased.  I 
gave  Naylor  a  signal  to  recommence,  he  got 
through  the  prelude  and  I  had  just  opened  my 
mouth  to  charm  the  British  public  when  one 
of  the  aggrieved  called  out,  '*  Where's  Mr. 
Reeves  ? ''  I  called  back,  ''  1  don't  keep  Mr. 
Reeves  in  my  pocket  and  cannot  say,  I  only  know 
he  is  unable  to  fulfil  his  engagement  this  evening." 
Here  I  was  interrupted  by  somebody  behind  me 
on  the  orchestra  shouting,  '*  No !  he's  drunk 
again."  I  turned  swiftly  round  and  shouted 
in  reply,  "  If  that  person  who  has  just  now  spoken 
will  come  down  here,  I  will  give  him  a  reply  he 
will  not  forget  in  a  hurry."  This  turned  the 
scale  ;  it  amused  the  audience,  one  of  whom  got 
on  his  legs  and  spoke  out  warmly.  '*  You  have 
a  gentleman  before  you,"  said  he,  '*  then  behave 
like  gentlemen."  The  noise  ceased,  I  sang  my 
song,  and  the  concert  continued  to  the  end  without 
further  interruption. 

Reeves,  like  the  major  part  of  the  human  race, 
had  his  little  idiosyncrasies,  failings,  if  you  like 


A   "GREEN"   TENOR  93 

the  name  better.  He  was  full  of  nerves,  and  like 
all  nervous  people  at  times  very  irritable.  I  had 
literally  to  push  him  on  to  the  platform  at  St. 
James's  Hall  on  a  Burns  night,  when  he  was  going 
to  sing  in  Howard  Glover's  cantata,  ''  Tam 
O'Shanter,"  a  very  trying  part.  A  young  tenor 
had  been  engaged  to  take  Reeves's  place  in  case 
he  could  not  put  in  an  appearance.  Just  as  the 
singers  were  going  up  to  take  their  places,  the 
silly  young  man  asked  Reeves  if  he  would  like 
him  to  go  up  at  once  or  wait  until  he  might  be 
wanted.  ''  Who  are  you,  sir,  and  what  would 
you  go  on  for  ?  "  said  Tam.     ''  I  was  engaged  to 

take  your  place  incase  of  .  .  .  ."    ''  D n  you,  sir, 

what  do  you  mean  ?  "  roared  Tam,  "  I'll  choke 
you,"  and  he  certainly  would  have  carried  out  his 
threat,  only  I  got  between  them  and  pushed 
Reeves  up  the  stairs,  he  growling  vengeance,  and 
I  promising  he  should  have  it  out  in  the  green- 
room after  he  had  polished  off  Tam.  The 
juvenile  was  hustled  out  of  the  Hall,  and  the 
*'  Cock  of  the  North  "  (and  of  every  point  of  the 
compass)  was  appeased  with  a  little  adjustment 
of  his  plumage  and  cautiously -administered  chaff. 
So  all  ended  well. 

It  is  quite  common  to  accuse  public  people 
of  drinking  too  much.  My  sister  was  present  at 
Her  Majesty's  on  one  occasion  when  I  was  playing 
in  the  opera.  Two  individuals  seated  behind 
her  were  comparing  notes  between  the  acts. 
One  of  them  expatiated  on  the  excellence  of  my 


94        REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

performance,  the  other  agreed  it  was  fine. 
''  What  a  pity  it  is/*  he  dolefully  remarked,  ''  he 
drinks/'  professing  at  the  same  time  to  be 
intimately  acquainted  with  me. 

I  took  my  idea  of  singing  ''  Here's  a  health 
unto  His  Majesty  "  from  the  scene  in  Woodstock 
where  Roger  Wildrake  defies  old  Noll.  I  think 
it  is  just  the  song  with  which  he,  being  half  drunk, 
might  have  favoured  the  ''  Protector." 

After  singing  it  for  an  encore  one  evening  at 
St.  James's  Hall,  I  remarked  to  a  friend  who  was 
accompanying  me  home,  that  I  thought  I  had 
acted  ''  the  drunk  "  better  than  usual ;  he  replied 
that  he  thought  everybody  was  not  of  the  same 
opinion,  two  of  the  audience  seated  on  the  row 
behind  him  at  any  rate  were  not,  for  they  not 
only  believed  I  was  really  drunk,  but  that  I  had 
taken  a  remarkably  short  time  ''  to  get  tight  "  ! 
My  imitation  would  be  quoted  as  a  reality,  and 
as  sufficient  proof  of  my  being  a  drunkard. 

Such  are  the  slender  grounds  upon  which 
public  men  and  women  are  stigmatized  as 
"  topers." 

It  is  a  great  pity  that  people,  otherwise 
charitably  disposed,  are  not  more  on  their  guard 
against  accepting  as  facts  and  retailing  them 
as  such,  foolish  and  scandalous  stories  they  hear 
of  public  men  and  women  from  those  who,  while 
professing  to  be  on  intimate  terms,  have  not  even 
a  passing  acquaintance  with  them.  Vocalists 
seem  to  be  especially  singled  out  as  the  victims 


A   WIFE-BEATER  95 

of  these  story-tellers.  The  following  is  a  fair 
specimen  of  the  style  of  their  inventions.  The 
two  daughters  of  my  friend  John  Agnew  were 
present  at  one  of  the  Halle  concerts  in  Manchester 
some  years  ago,  when  I  had  to  take  part  in  a 
cantata  by  Mr.  Edward  Hecht,  performed  for  the 
first  time.  Anna  Williams  and  Edward  Lloyd 
were  my  companions. 

Before  the  concert  a  lady  sitting  in  front  of 
my  two  young  friends  was  pointing  out  to  her 
companion,  evidently  a  stranger  to  Manchester, 
people  of  note,  etc.  When  the  performance  was 
about  to  commence,  and  Miss  Williams  and  Mr. 
Lloyd  ascended  to  the  orchestra,  the  stranger 
was  informed  who  they  were ;  on  which  she 
remarked  that  Miss  Williams  was  a  very  elegant 
lady,  and  Mr.  Lloyd  a  nice,  plump  little  gentleman. 
When  I  appeared  on  the  other  side  of  the  platform 
the  stranger  was  told,  ''  that  is  Mr.  Santley.'* 
''  Ah  !  "  she  said,  ''  indeed  !  that's  the  man 
that  beats  his  wife;"  then,  after  a  more  minute 
inspection,  she  topped  up  with,  ''  and  he  looks 
like  it,  too  !  " 

I  cannot  judge,  but  I  do  not  think  I  look  like 
anything  of  the  sort ;  if  I  do,  all  I  can  say  is, 
my  looks  belie  me !  I  never  beat  anybody, 
except  on  rare  occasions  when  my  youngsters 
were  naughty  and  would  not  listen  to  the  ''  voice 
of  love  "  ;  to  bring  them  to  their  senses  I  performed 
a  rataplan  of  the  mildest  description  on  their 
little  anatomies. 


96        REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

Singers  are  naturally  a  nervous  race  ;  beyond 
the  anxiety  attendant  on  their  performances, 
they  have  to  contend  with  temperament  and 
temperature  with  regard  to  their  voices.  A 
speaker  could  go  through  his  part  with  a  voice 
in  such  condition  as  would  render  it  useless  for 
a  singer  to  attempt  to  get  through  a  part  of  any 
importance.  There  are  many  influences  which 
would  seem  absurd  to  the  auditor  that  cause 
the  singer  a  vast  amount  of  anxiety.  We  know 
what  bold,  impudent  things  nervous,  shy  people 
are  capable  of  saying  and  doing  in  a  social 
gathering.  What  strange  antics  may  not  a 
nervous,  anxious  singer  who  has  to  confront  a 
large  audience  unconsciously  perform.  I  have 
seen  Reeves,  when  suffering  from  intense  nervous 
excitement,  walk  on  to  the  platform  with  an 
exaggerated  air  of  courage  and  nonchalance, 
his  legs  shaking  to  such  a  degree  that  he  could 
not  walk  steadily  ;  on  which  some  of  the  charitable 
audience  would  bestow  such  remarks  as,  ''  Dear 
me  !  one  would  think  the  whole  place  belonged 
to  him  "  ;  or,  *'  Of  course,  drunk  again  !  '* 

Such  remarks  spread  not  only  through  the 
audience,  but  through  the  audience  to  their 
friends  and  acquaintances  ;  and  thus  a  man  or 
woman  has  to  bear  the  stigma  of  an  evil  reputation 
which  they  have  never  earned. 

What  I  have  said  about  my  old  friend  is  not 
offered  in  his  defence  ;  he  required  no  defence  ; 
all  who  were  intimate  with  him,  as  I  was,  knew 


REEVES'S   MODERATION  97 

him  to  be  particularly  abstemious.  The  last 
time  we  sang  together — at  Henry  Nicholson's 
farewell  benefit  at  Leicester — about  a  year  before 
his  death,  he,  being  then  upwards  of  eighty  years 
of  age,  sang  splendidly,  which  would  have  been 
impossible  had  he  worshipped  at  the  shrine  of 
Bacchus  as  earnestly  as  his  detractors  were 
pleased  to  take  for  granted.  He  had  faults — 
we  all  have — but  that  was  not  one  of  them. 
''  Men's  evil  manners  live  in  brass,  their  virtues 
we  write  in  water."  Let  us  do  the  contrary,  and 
remember  the  great  artiste  and  the  unspeakable 
enjoyment  his  singing  gave  to  countless  thousands 
of  his  countrymen,  with  whom  he  was  a  household 
god,  and  forget  little  faults  for  which  he  was  not 
in  many  cases  responsible. 


7— <2386) 


CHAPTER  X 

My  Predilection  for  the  St.  Gothard  Pass — The  Motor  Car — My 
Idea  of  Pleasurable  Locomotion — "  Ballad  Concerts  " — What 
is  a  Ballad  ? — Erroneous  Idea  of  the  Term  "  Expression  " 
— Proposal  of  Engagement  for  English  Opera,  1873,  fell  to  the 
ground — Renewed  and  Accepted,  1875,  with  Carl  Rosa  at 
Princess's  Theatre — Opening  "  Figaro  " — Anonymous  Letter — 
Misunderstandings — "  The  Siege  of  Rochelle  " — "  The  Porter 
of  Havre  " — Buckets  of  Tears — Success  as  an  Actor — "  The 
Water  Carrier  " — Another  Success — A  Cascade — Macfarren's 
Opinion  of  Cherubini — "On  Tour" — Saddle  of  Mutton  and 
Bookbinder's  Paste" — "The  Bell,"  Leicester,  and  Mine  Host 
Boyer. 

Nothing  else  worthy  of  note  happened  during 
the  remainder  of  our  stay  at  Brunnen.  We  made 
excursions  by  footpaths  which  are  now  enlarged 
to  carriage  roads. 

Travellers  to  Italy  by  the  St.  Gothard  now 
can  hardly  realize  that  in  1855  the  journey  from 
Bale  to  Camerlata  was  made  by  diligence,  except 
from  Andermatt  to  Airolo  in  the  winter  months, 
when  that  part  was  performed  in  sledges.  Spite 
of  my  feet  being  half-frozen  when  I  arrived  at 
Lucerne,  at  about  five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and 
the  sledge-drive  over  the  top  of  the  St.  Gothard 
in  the  snow,  I  enjoyed  the  journey  a  vast  deal 
more  than  I  do  now,  cooped  up  in  a  railway 
carriage  the  whole  way  to  Milan,  plunging  through 
holes  in  the  earth,  half  stifled  with  smoke,  and 
ultimately  arriving  at  my  destination  looking  like 
a  sweep. 

98 


MODES   OF  TRAVELLING  99 

Those  who  can  afford  the  extra  expense  of  a 
carriage,  will  find  themselves  amply  repaid  by 
the  beauty  of  the  scenery  they  pass  through, 
which  they  can  enjoy  at  leisure,  a  night's  rest 
at  Hospenthal  in  the  purest  of  pure  air,  and  the 
facility  for  stretching  the  legs  (I  do  not  mean 
whiskey  and  soda)  on  the  short  cuts  used  by 
pedestrians. 

I  have  a  predilection  for  the  St.  Gothard  route 
from  old  association ;  since  1855  I  have  been 
over  it,  I  cannot  say  how  many  times,  first  in  a 
sledge  and  afterwards  on  foot,  in  diligence  and 
carriage,  and  by  railway ;  the  last,  of  course,  is 
wonderful,  and  the  most  expeditious,  where 
expedition  is  a  matter  of  importance  and  a  sooty 
complexion  of  none.  Expedition  is  the  order 
of  the  present  day  ;  the  majority  of  the  human 
race  are  prepared  to  sacrifice  any  consideration 
for  the  comfort  of  others  that  they  may  race 
through  their  existence  at  express  speed,  with 
the  risk  of  breaking  their  own  necks — a  matter 
for  their  own  private  consideration — or  the  necks  of 
their  fellow-creatures — which  ought  to  be,  but  does 
not  always  seem  to  be,  a  matter  for  the  consider- 
ation of  the  police,  or  whatever  power  is  supposed 
to  have  authority  over  road  and  street  traffic. 

I  have  been  assured  that  no  driving  for  enjoy- 
ment compares  with  that  in  a  motor  car.  It  may 
be,  as  regards  selfish  enjoyment ;  but  though 
I  am  not  an  advertising  philanthropist,  I  claim 
to  have  a  little  sympathy  for  my  fellow-creatures, 


100      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

and  when  I  am  choked  with  dust  and  petroleum 
fumes,  and  my  nervous  system  is  kept  in  a 
constant  state  of  irritation  by  the  brutal  noise 
of  hooters,  and  wheels  tearing  up  the  pavement — 
for  the  conservation  of  which  I  am  taxed — I  feel 
I  could  not  possibly  do  as  I  am  done  by  for  any 
amount  of  selfish  pleasure. 

If  I  were  a  moderately  rich  man,  I  would  never, 
unless  absolutely  compelled  by  unavoidable 
circumstances,  travel  for  pleasure  except  in  a 
solid,  convenient  travelling  carriage  such  as 
Dickens  describes  in  The  Uncommercial 
Traveller^  by  land ;  or  a  good  sailing  ship 
carrying  few  passengers,  by  sea.  I  have  no 
intention  of  prescribing  for  the  enjoyment  of  other 
people,  or  the  method  of  procuring  it,  I  am 
concerned  entirely  with  my  own  experiences  and 
reminiscences,  and  feel  bound  to  let  my  readers 
into  the  secret  of  some  of  my  weaknesses. 

I  intended  that  the  season  of  opera  in  New 
York  (1872)  should  be  my  farewell  to  the  stage, 
but  it  was  not  to  be,  I  had  another  trial  in  store, 
of  which  I  will  speak  later  on. 

My  tour  in  the  English  provinces  in  1872 
ended,  I  dropped  into  the  routine  of  Oratorio  and 
Concert  performances.  To  my  chagrin  I  found 
that  '*  ballad  concerts"  were  in  vogue  throughout 
the  country  ;  it  was  disappointing,  having  chosen 
songs  of  a  high  class,  to  be  requested  to  change 
them  for  some  of  the  ''  favourites  of  the  hour,'' 
produced    at    the    *' London    Ballad   Concerts.'' 


I 


>     >       1 


BALLAD   CONCERTS  101 

I  acknowledge  my  delinquencies.  I  always 
endeavoured  to  adhere  to  a  high  standard  in  the 
choice  of  my  songs,  but  there  were  times  when 
I  allowed  friendship  to  interfere  with  discretion, 
which  I  have  often  regretted.  I  had  many  little 
'*  spars "  with  John  Boosey  on  this  subject, 
though  we  never  arrived  at  a  quarrel. 

When  we  had  any  difference  of  opinion  con- 
cerning business  matters  and  he  waxed  cynical,  he 
would  write  me  a  stinger,  denouncing  my  dis- 
loyalty or  other  crime  ;  in  reply  I  gave  him 
a  *'  Roland  for  his  Oliver  " — I  can  produce  a  sharp 
sting  on  occasions — our  ^^tiff"  concluded  with  a 
roar  of  laughter.  What  a  blessing  it  would  be 
if  all  ^^ tiffs"  ended  so! 

I  like  ballads,  for  instance,  ''  The  Erl  King," 
which  I  always  consider  the  model  ballad;  ''The 
Wreck  of  the  Hesperus,"  which,  spite  of  the 
adverse  criticism  I  have  already  mentioned,  I  call 
a  well -written  and  effective  ballad ;  "  The 
Bailiff's  Daughter  of  Islington,"  and  many  more 
I  could  name  ;  all  specimens  of  poetic  verses 
wedded  to  appropriate  music.  But  I  do  not 
like  the  maudlin  sentimentality  of  both  composi- 
tion and  execution  which  of  late  years  has  usurped 
the  place  of  sentiment,  and  lowered  the  standard 
of  public  taste  and  of  perfection  in  the  art  of 
singing.  The  Imperial  Dictionary  says,  "  Ballad 
— a  song  ;  originally  a  solemn  song  of  praise, 
but  now  a  kind  of  popular  song  containing  the 
recital   of   some   action,  adventure,   or  intrigue  ; 


102      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

as  the  deeds  of  warriors  or  the  adventures  of 
lovers  ;  also  a  meaner  kind  of  song  which  is  sung 
in  the  streets." 

Where  are  we  to  look  in  the  modern  ballad 
for  a  recital  of  heroic  deeds  or  love  adventures  ? 
Our  heroes  are  at  best  carpet-knights,  and  our 
lovers  are  of  the  genus  ''  spoon."  Latham's 
Dictionary  of  the  English  Language  says  : 
'*  Ballad — song/' — and  quotes,  *'  Ballad  once 
signified  a  solemn  and  sacred  song,  as  well  as 
trivial,  when  Solomon's  Song  was  called  '  the 
ballad  of  ballads '  ;  but  now  it  is  applied  to 
nothing  but  trifling  verse — Watts."  This  last 
is  generally  applicable  to  what  are  called  ballads 
at  the  present  day. 

It  is  quite  possible  for  a  composer  gifted  with 
poetic  feeling  to  write  a  good  song  inspired  by 
a  situation,  though  the  words  the  situation  is 
expressed  in  are  of  the  cheap,  sentimental  class  ; 
for  instance,  Balfe,  in  ''  Come  into  the  Garden, 
Maud,"  and  "  When  other  lips  and  other  hearts  " 
expresses  in  music  the  poetic  situation  which 
the  namby-pamby  words  of  the  first  and  the 
vulgar  commonplace  of  the  second  fail  to  do. 
An  artiste  like  Reeves  could  invest  such  words 
with  a  charm  which  in  themselves  they  did  not 
possess,  by  the  force  of  his  poetic  imagination, 
aided  by  the  music  to  which  they  were  wedded — 
in  which  he  has  had  no  successor.  The  word 
**  expression  "  in  speaking,  recitation,  and  singing 
is  very  often  erroneously  used  by  those  who  do 


THE   SINGER  AS   ARTIST  103 

not  possess,  or  who  have  not  had  the  means 
of  acquiring,  the  knowledge  necessary  to  judge 
of  a  poetic  situation  and  the  mode  in  which  it 
is  expressed  in  words,  spoken  or  sung.  Expression 
as  regards  the  author,  is  the  dramatic  explanation 
in  words  of  a  narrative,  imaginary  or  historical ; 
as  regards  the  speaker  or  singer,  it  is  the  execution 
of  that  explanation  in  speech  or  song. 

I  will  take  for  granted  that  the  author  has 
performed  his  part,  and  confine  myself  to  the 
executant,  who  must  first  form  a  picture  in  his 
mind's  eye  of  the  incidents  of  the  narrative,  the 
subject  of  the  recitation  or  song,  then  study  to 
delineate  them  logically.  This  cannot  be  accom- 
plished by  screaming  or  bellowing  here,  and 
whispering  or  mumbling  there  ;  yet  how 
frequently  we  find  this  method  applauded  to  the 
skies  because  of  the  obtrusion  of  a  scream  or 
whisper  to  show  off  the  voice,  while  a  perfectly 
logical  delineation  will  be  received  with  compara- 
tive coldness.  Especially  at  the  end  of  a  song, 
the  obtrusion  of  a  shout  or  whiffle  will  cover 
the  whole  list  of  the  cardinal  vocal  sins,  and 
ensure  to  the  sinner  a  tempest  of  applause  ! 

Such  being  the  case,  and  there  is  no  doubt 
about  it  being  the  case,  who  is  to  blame  ?  I  say 
without  hesitation,  '*  the  public,"  those  who  pay 
to  be  amused  !  If  they  really  had  a  modicum 
of  good  taste,  and  would  use  a  little  common 
sense,  they  could  have  infinitely  greater  return 
for  their  money  ;    they  would  require  a  better 


104      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

article — better  songs  and  better  singers — they 
would  be  fewer,  fortunately — for  every  little 
J  ohnny  or  Sally,  whose  parents  and  friends  look  upon 
them  as  swans,  would  not  be  allowed  to  obtrude 
their  miserable  attempts  at  composition  and  their 
total  ignorance  of  the  art  of  singing  in  concert 
rooms ;  publishers  would  look  for  something 
better  than  chaff  on  which  to  feed  their  customers  ; 
young  composers  would  have  the  opportunity 
they  deserve  for  disposing  of  their  compositions  ; 
and  young  singers  would  have  a  chance  of  earning 
a  reward  for  their  earnest  labour,  instead  of  having 
to  pay  entrepreneur^  manager,  or  agent,  an 
exorbitant  fee  for  appearance  in  public,  which 
their  ability  alone  should  make  secure. 

I  am  not  sure  about  the  year,  but  I  think  it  must 
have  been  in  1873,  that  Carl  Rosa  made  overtures 
to  me  respecting  an  engagement  to  sing  in  English 
opera  at  Drury  Lane,  when  he  proposed  opening 
with  ''  Lohengrin,"  which  had  not  yet  been 
performed  in  England.  I  demurred,  as  I  had 
firmly  resolved  on  quitting  the  stage,  and  also 
on  account  of  the  part  of  Telremond,  which 
did  not  engage  my  sympathy.  However,  on 
further  consideration,  I  consented  to  accept  the 
engagement,  in  gratitude  for  that  I  had  with  him 
in  America  in  1872,  which  made  a  glorious  finish 
to  an  otherwise  disastrous  campaign.  Terms 
and  dates  were  arranged,  but  the  untimely  death 
of  his  wife,  Eufrosina  Parepa,  affected  him  so 
deeply  that  he  abandoned  the  project  for  the  time. 


A   LITTLE   BREEZE  105 

In  1875  he  again  proposed,  and  I  accepted,  an 
engagement  for  a  series  of  operas  at  the  Princess's 
Theatre  in  the  autumn,  to  be  followed  by  a  tour 
in  the  provinces  after  Christmas.  Beyond  the 
usual  stipulations  in  a  theatrical  engagement, 
I  insisted  on  two  being  added,  viz.,  that  I  should 
not  be  required  to  sing  in  ''  The  Bohemian  Girl  " 
nor  ''  The  Trovatore  "  ;  and  that  I  should  have 
the  right  to  choose  the  artistes  who  were  to  be  my 
companions  in  the  operas  in  which  I  played. 
To  oblige  Rosa  I  waived  my  objection  to  ''  The 
Trovatore  "  ;  some  time  before  the  opening  of 
the  season  we  quarrelled  over  the  second 
stipulation,  as  he  wished  to  insist  upon  introducing 
a  member  of  the  company  into  the  caste  of  the  first 
opera,  ''  The  Marriage  of  Figaro,"  who  I  knew 
was  totally  unfitted  for  the  part  to  be  entrusted 
to  him. 

We  had  a  httle  '^  tiff  "  at  the  first  rehearsals, 
when  I  found  the  splendid  sestett  in  the  second 
act  was  to  be  omitted,  to  make  way  for  some  silly 
dialogue,  which  he  insisted  was  much  more 
effective  (Oh,  Mozart  !).  There  I  let  him  have 
his  way  ;  but  I  insisted  on  the  finale  of  the  first 
act  being  performed  without  a  cut,  and  in  that 
I  had  my  way  ;  the  finest  finale  ever  written  (Oh, 
glorious  Mozart  !).  During  the  season  I  played  in 
''  Figaro,"  ''  The  Trovatore,"  ''  The  Siege  of 
Rochelle,"  "The  Water  Carrier,"  and  "The 
Porter  of  Havre." 

I  had  gone  through  a  number  of  seasons  on 


106      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

the  stage  :  Pavia  and  Milan  (Italian)  ;  Covent 
Garden,  Her  Majesty's  Theatre,  and  Drury  Lane 
(English) ;  Covent  Garden,  Her  Majesty's,  and 
Drury  Lane  (Italian) ;  Barcelona,  Milan  (Italian) ; 
America  (English  and  Italian)  ;  and  experienced 
that  managerial  ways  and  my  ways  were 
diametrically  opposed.  What  managerial  ways 
were  founded  on  I  never  could  fathom  ;  mine 
were  founded  on  a  sacrifice  of  my  desires  to  the 
success  of  the  management  with  which  I  was 
engaged. 

I  never  shirked  work,  either  at  rehearsal  or 
performance  ;  I  was  always  ready  to  do  a  *'  good 
turn,"  and  always  punctual.  I  was  never  the 
recipient  of  a  ''good  turn"  from  any  management, 
except  that  of  James  Mapleson,  my  Italian  opera 
manager  in  London,  and  of  E.  T.  Smith,  my 
English  opera  manager  at  Her  Majesty's  Theatre  ; 
but  ingratitude  for  favours  done  did  not  trouble 
me.  I  was  young,  enthusiastic,  and  earnest, 
with  only  one  object  in  view,  to  make  the  best 
use  of  the  talents  with  which  I  was  endowed, 
and,  generally  speaking,  I  was  happy  in  my  work, 
allowing  annoyances  to  slide  "  like  water  off  a 
duck's  back." 

During  my  last  two  seasons  at  the  Princess's 
and  the  Lyceum,  I  suffered  acutely  ;  I  verily 
believe  had  I  ventured  on  another  season  under 
the  same  management  my  earthly  career  would 
have  come  to  an  untimely  end.  More  I  will 
not  say,   the  men   have   all  departed  this  life  ; 


"  FIGARO  "  107 

under  any  circumstances  I  respect  the  dead,  and 
would  not  wound  the  feehngs  of  their  relations 
and  friends  who  are  still  living,  and,  not  having 
suffered  from  their  managerial  ways,  have  more 
cause  to  admire  them  than  I  have. 

I  was  cast  for  the  part  of  Almavira  in 
*'  Figaro,"  a  part  I  never  took  kindly  to,  as  I 
never  succeeded  in  doing  it  justice.  When  the 
gentleman  referred  to  above  was  removed  from 
the  caste,  I  took  the  part  of  Protagonist.  As 
I  was  entering  the  stage  door  on  the  evening  of 
the  first  performance,  a  soiled  note  was  handed 
to  me,  which  I  opened  in  my  dressing-room  ;  it 
was  the  foulest  composition  I  ever  received. 
I  kept  it  for  a  time,  but  when  I  quitted  the  stage 
for  good  I  destroyed  it  ;  it  bore  no  signature, 
but  there  was  no  doubt  about  the  authorship. 
My  companions  in  the  opera  were  : — 


Count  Almamva 
D.  Bartolo 
Basilio   . 
The  Gardener  . 
Countess  Almavira 
Susanna . 
Cherubino 
Marcellina 


SiG.  Campobello  (ne  Campbell) 

Aynsley  Cook 

Charles  Lyall 

Arthur  Howell 

ostava  torriani 

Rose  Hersee  (Mrs.  A.  Howell) 

Josephine  York 

Mrs.  Aynsley  Cook 


The  orchestra  and  chorus  were  both  excellent, 
and  we  only  wanted  Alfred  Mellon  as  conductor 
to  have  secured  a  perfect  musical  performance. 
Rosa  himself  conducted,  but  he  was  too 
inexperienced  and  fidgety,  and  I  found  him 
more  irritating  than  helpful. 


108      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

Mdlle.  Torriani  was  a  very  good  Countess; 
it  was  wonderful  how  she  got  through  the 
dialogue,  being  but  an  indifferent  English  scholar  ; 
Rose  Hersee  a  capital  Susanna ^  and  Josephine 
York  a  most  vivacious  Cherubino.  Cook  was 
excellent  as  Bartolo,  and  Charles  Lyall  far  away 
the  best  Basilio  I  have  ever  seen  on  the  lyric 
stage,  and  Arthur  Howell  the  feeblest  Gardener. 

During  the  season,  His  Majesty  King  Edward 
VII,  and  Her  Majesty  Queen  Alexandra,  then 
Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales,  expressed  their 
intention  of  paying  us  a  visit,  and  chose  ''  Figaro" 
for  their  entertainment. 

After  the  second  act  His  Royal  Highness  sent 
for  me,  to  my  astonishment,  to  ascend  to  the 
royal  box  ;  he  paid  me  many  kind  compliments, 
and  expressed  himself  much  pleased,  and 
requested  me  to  convey  his  thanks  to  Mr.  Rosa, 
which  I  did,  and  did  not  receive  any  thanks  for 
my  pains  from  the  recipient. 

I  saw  Rosa  was  annoyed,  and  that  another 
black  mark  was  placed  against  my  name  in 
consequence.  I  was  exceedingly  sorry,  but  it 
was  nobody's  fault  that  His  Royal  Highness 
should  single  me  out,  having  known  me  so  many 
years,  rather  than  a  gentleman  of  whom  he  had 
probably  never  heard.  H.R.H.  was  under  the 
impression  the  affair  was  under  my  direction, 
and  it  was  only  when  I  enlightened  him  that  he 
gave  me  the  message  for  Rosa. 

For  some  reason  which  I  could  not  understand. 


"  ZAMPA  "  109 

the  performances  being  so  good,  the  receipts 
were  not  what  they  ought  to  have  been.  In 
order  to  attempt  to  increase  them,  Rosa  begged 
of  me  to  waive  my  stipulation  and  play  di 
Luna  in  ''  The  Trovatore."  I  consented  to  do 
so  on  condition  that  he  would  pay  for  my  dresses 
or  a  certain  sum  towards  the  cost,  which  condition 
was  never  fulfilled. 

I  believe  the  opera  was  successful  in  replenishing 
the  exchequer,  but  as  that  was  a  part  of  the 
business  I  had  no  business  with,  I  cannot  say. 
After  this — I  do  not  recollect  in  what  order — 
we  played  "  The  Siege  of  Rochelle,"  one  of  the 
two  operas  (''  Zampa "  was  the  other)  Balfe 
always  insisted  were  made  for  me,  would  fit  me 
like  a  glove.  The  part  of  Zampa,  written 
for  ChoUet,  a  famous  tenor  of  the  Opera 
Comique,  required  some  little  transposition,  and 
certain  passages  which  I  imagined  (as  I  never 
heard  the  opera)  were  sung  in  falsetto,  I  arranged 
to  suit  my  register.  In  the  Italian  edition  the 
part  of  Zampa  is  printed  in  the  bass  clef, 
and  in  Italy  has  been  almost  invariably  sung  by 
a  baritone. 

With  the  changes  I  have  noted,  it  suited  me 
admirably  ;  I  played  it  at  the  Gaiety,  London, 
every  night  for  nine  weeks  running  without 
fatigue.  Fra  Diavolo,  written  for  the  same 
tenor,  which  I  played  after  Zampa,  did  not 
turn  out  so  well  as  far  as  my  register  was  con- 
cerned, though  I  played  it  every  night  for  some 


no      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 


weeks.  During  the  last  before  Christmas,  I  played 
in  addition  Tom  Tug  in  ''  The  Waterman,"  in 
which  I  sang  the  songs  belonging  to  the  part, 
**  Oh,  have  you  not  heard  of  a  jolly  young  water- 
man ? "  and  *'  Then  farewell  my  trim  built 
wherry,"  besides  interpolating  ''  Hearts  of  Oak" 
in  place  of  ''  The  Bay  of  Biscay,"  usually  intro- 
duced. I  did  find  this  last  week  fatiguing,  but  a 
few  days'  rest  set  me  right  to  sing  in  the  Christmas 
''  Messiahs." 

The  part  of  Fra  Diavolo,  dramatically 
suited  me  well.  I  had  seen  the  hero  represented 
usually  as  an  exquisite,  a  dandy,  but  he  is  really 
little  better — only  better  dressed — than  his 
two  companions,  Beppo  and  Giacomo.  Dion 
Boucicault,  who  had  been  present  one  evening, 
complimented  me  on  my  performance,  ''  and 
he  was  not  a  bad  judge,  sir  !  "  He  asked  me  if 
I  had  arranged  the  last  scene  myself.  I  replied 
I  had  ;  he  then  said,  '*  I  have  never  seen  it  so 
effectively  played  before;  it  was  perfect!"  I 
crave  pardon  for  thus  digressing,  though  I  think 
the  digression  bears  on  my  narrative. 

The  caste  of  ''  The  Siege  of  Rochelle  "  was: — 


Clara    . 
Marcellina 
Valmour 
Michelotto 
Rosenberg 
Montalhan 
Azino   . 
Corporal  Schwartz 


ostava  torriani 
Julia  Gaylord 

:|(  »>c  4: 4:  ^  H< 

Chas.  Santley 
Aynsley  Cook 
William  Ludwig 
George  Snazelle 
Charles  Lyall 


"THE  SIEGE   OF   ROCHELLE  ^'      111 

Torriani  was  ill-suited,  except  in  the  concerted 
music,  as  she  had  no  idea  of  rendering  an  English 
ballad  ;  Juha  Gaylord,  a  fair  young  American, 
made  a  great  hit  in  the  part  of  Marcellina,  which 
she  played  with  great  vivacity  and  good  sense  ; 
with  the  duet  between  Marcellina  and  Michelotto 
— which  finishes  with  a  lively  waltz — we  brought 
the  house  down  ;  the  terpsichorean  effort  received 
a  storm  of  applause,  and  had  to  be  repeated 
nightly  at  the  expense  of  a  gouty  toe,  inherited 
from  my  forefathers. 

The  tenor,  whose  name  I  do  not  remember, 
was  an  importation  from  America,  a  great 
*'  card,"  according  to  report  ;  he  turned  out  a 
very  ''  small  potato."  Cook,  as  usual,  was  first- 
rate  ;  Ludwig,  a  prize  villain,  and  Snazelle 
and  Lyall  did  all  that  could  be  done  with  the 
small  parts  allotted  to  them.  "  The  Porter  of 
Havre"  and  ''The  Water  Carrier"  I  reserved 
for  the  last,  as  they  were  my  great  successes  of 
the  season.  The  former,  a  lyric  edition  of  the 
same  drama  of  which  ''  The  Porter's  Knot " 
(in  which  Fred.  Robson  achieved  one  of  his  great 
successes)  is  a  translation,  was  written  in  Italian 
by  Cagnoni  with  the  title  of  ''  Papa  Martino." 

Without  the  shghtest  idea  I  should  ever  be 
called  upon  to  take  part  in  it,  I  heard  it  at 
the  Dal  Verme  theatre  in  Milan.  Martin  was 
represented  by  a  singer  with  an  established 
reputation  in  Italy — I  could  not  see  why — who 
during  the  season  of  1869  played  the  Podestd  in 


112      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

''  La  Gazza  Ladra,"  at  Co  vent  Garden,  with 
Adelina  Patti,  Trebelli-Bettini,  Bettini,  Lyall,  and 
myself.  His  Italian  reputation  was  not  con- 
firmed in  London,  and  he  never  revisited  the 
white-faced  shores  of  Albion.  John  Oxenford 
made  an  excellent  translation  of  ''  Papa  Martino." 
The  music,  though  very  pretty,  is  not  of  the  style 
to  suit  an  English  opera  audience ;  the  work 
contains  few  solo  pieces ;  no  ballads — the 
adoration  of  John  Bull — and  the  concerted  music 
is  of  the  opera-bouffe  class.  Spite  of  these  draw- 
backs it  proved  a  success,  and  my  part  a  great 
success  for  me. 

At  the  end  of  the  second  act — where  the  son 
is  banished  from  home  on  account  of  his  mis- 
conduct— without  uttering  a  sound,  I  affected 
the  nerves  of  the  audience  to  such  an  extent 
that  a  universal  snivel  pervaded  the  house  ;  even 
Rosa — a  pretty  tough  subject — blubbered  like 
a  schoolboy  robbed  of  his  toffee  ;  Mrs.  Weldon, 
who  was  in  the  stage  box  on  my  side  of  the  stage, 
was  dissolved  in  tears. 

I  saw  these  things  between  my  fingers  after  the 
quiet  little  snivel  I  myself  had  indulged  in  had 
subsided.  I  think  even  Aynsley  Cook  shed  a  silent 
tear.  The  buckets  of  tears  shed  must  have  saved 
the  trouble  and  expense  of  a  spring  cleaning  to  the 
lessee  of  the  theatre.  One  good  effect  my  success 
produced  was,  that  it  effectually  put  to  flight  the 
opinion  of  some  of  the  '*  big- wigs  " — who  know 
all  about  it — that  I  was  a  ''crushed  tragedian  !  '' 


"THE   WATER   CARRIER"  113 

The  performance  I  really  enjoyed  was  that  of 
*'  The  Water  Carrier."  It  can  scarcely  be  called 
an  opera,  it  is  really  a  drama  interspersed  with 
music,  and  a  charming  drama  it  is,  and  charming 
music  it  contains.  The  overture  alone  is  worth 
the  price  of  a  stall.  I  fiddled  in  it  many  a  time 
at  the  practices  of  "  The  Societa  Armonica," 
Liverpool,  in  the  days  of  my  adolescence ; 
whether  playing  in  or  hearing  it,  it  always  sent 
a  peculiar  thrill  through  my  entire  frame  ;  no 
jing-bang  of  kitchen  furniture,  no  horrid  discords 
to  set  one's  teeth  on  edge,  nothing  but  pure 
delightful  melody  and  harmony  such  as  the 
degraded  state  of  musical  taste  at  the  present 
day  cannot  appreciate. 

I  am  getting  off  the  rowlocks,  so  I  had  better 
return  to  my  ''  Water  Carrier."  A  delightful 
and  amusing  incident  occurred  one  night  when 
we  were  playing  it  at  Manchester.  We  had  a 
cask  constructed  to  fold  up  so  as  to  be  conveniently 
carried  by  rail  along  with  the  other  properties. 
It  was  fitted  with  a  compartment  to  contain 
suffi\cient  water  to  make  a  gurgle  loud  enough 
to  be  heard  by  those  of  the  audience  who  were 
near  the  stage,  or  provided  with  long  ears.  That 
we  used  in  London  was  an  ordinary  cask  into 
which  water  could  not  be  introduced,  for  fear  of 
spoihng  the  tenor's  Sunday  clothes. 

I  forgot  all  about  the  new  construction,  turned 
on  the  tap,  and  out  poured  a  stream  ;  the  tap, 
badly  secured,  came  loose,  so  there  was  nothing 

8— (2286) 


114      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

for  it  but  to  let  the  water  flow.  It  proved  an 
enormous  success,  the  audience,  dehghted, 
applauded  vociferously,  and  the  stage  had  a  more 
effective  washing  than  it  had  experienced  for 
many  a  day.  At  a  second  performance  I  took 
care  to  see  that  the  tap  was  fixed  firmly  and 
would  act  properly  ;  the  cascade  was  not  repeated, 
the  audience  was  disappointed,  and  I  pleased, 
as  I  received  the  applause  instead  of  the  water. 

Many  of  the  ''  top-sawyer "  musicians  came 
to  witness  our  performance  of  ''  The  Water 
Carrier  '*  in  London,  among  them  my  dear  old 
friend  and,  for  some  time,  master  of  Harmony, 
George  A.  Macfarren.  I  was  greatly  astonished 
to  find  he  did  not  care  for  the  work,  neither  drama 
nor  music  ;  and  still  more  astonished  when  he 
told  me  he  did  not  admire  Cherubini  as  composer 
or  master  of  counterpoint.  I  would  not  dare 
to  criticise  his  opinion  ;  he  was  a  master,  I  am 
a  mere  tyro  ;  yet  I  cannot  help  thinking  that 
his  opinion  was  based  more  on  prejudice  than 
knowledge. 

I  believe,  had  he  lived  for  a  time  in  the  little 
place  in  which  I  am  now  writing — Lenno,  on  the 
Lake  of  Como — in  the  delicious  atmosphere  I  am 
enjoying,  and  could  he  have  seen  the  lovely 
prospect  of  lake  and  mountain  I  have  before  me, 
his  Teutonic  prejudice  would  have  relaxed 
sufficiently  to  allow  him  to  bestow  a  share  of  his 
admiration  on  the  Italian  master. 

The  Princess's  season,  for  the  very  reason  that 


A   NEW  ENGAGEMENT  115 

it  was  short,  I  found  fatiguing.  My  holiday, 
which  preceded  it,  I  spent  with  my  family  at 
Baveno.  It  was  not  all  play  ;  I  had  four  new 
parts  to  study  :  Figaro  in  '*  Le  Nozze "  ; 
Michel  in  ''  The  Siege  of  Rochelle  "  ;  Mikell  in 
''  The  Water  Carrier "  ;  and  Martin  in  ''  The 
Porter  of  Havre."  I  took  the  parts  away  with 
me  and  occupied  my  mornings,  and  sometimes 
part  of  my  afternoons,  learning  them — music  and 
dialogue — so  as  to  be  prepared  for  the  rehearsals 
on  my  return ;  besides  which  I  made  a  new 
translation  of  all  my  part  in  ''  The  Water  Carrier." 
It  was  not  very  good,  I  admit,  but  it  was  an 
improvement  on  that  consigned  to  my  care. 
I  also  found  it  necessary  to  interfere  somewhat 
with  my  friend,  Fitzball,  in  "  The  Siege  of 
Rochelle." 

We  rehearsed  for  about  a  couple  of  weeks 
before  the  season  opened,  and  nearly  every  day 
while  it  lasted.  I  had  to  be  stirring  betimes 
o'  mornings,  so,  to  save  time,  I  ate  the  little  supper 
I  required  while  changing  after  my  work,  smoked 
my  pipe  on  my  road  home,  and  sought  my  couch 
immediately  on  arriving  there. 

With  a  tour  in  the  provinces  my  first  campaign 
under  the  Rosa  flag  ended.  I  then  made  an 
engagement  for  a  second,  to  open  at  the  Lyceum 
in  the  autumn  of  1876,  when  we  were  to  present 
Wagner's  ''  Flying  Dutchman "  in  the  English 
idiom.  I  was  very  pleased  to  have  an  opportunity 
of    playing     Vanderdecken    again  ;    indeed    that 


116      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

was  my  only  inducement  to  accept  another 
engagement  under  the  same  management. 

I  always  had  an  intense  dislike  to  ''  touring  " 
professionally,  either  concert  or  operatic.  The 
former  entailed  a  journey  every  day,  sometimes 
Sunday  included,  and  when  the  tour  was  difficult 
to  arrange,  often  a  long  and  tedious  journey,  and 
a  concert  every  evening  during  the  week.  Though 
we  always  put  up  at  the  best  noted  hotels,  we 
did  not  always  find  the  entertainment  bear  out 
the  advertised  reputation  of  the  establishment. 
Occasionally  we  had  a  pleasant  surprise,  one 
worth  noting.  We — The  Mapleson  Concert 
Company — had  been  travelling  for  two  or  three 
weeks — our  almost  daily  dinner  menu  embracing 
soup  (ahem  !),  saddle  of  mutton,  more  or  less 
badly  cooked;  boiled  chickens,  served  in  a  bath 
of  bookbinder's  paste  ;  apple  pie  with  a  doughy 
crust,  and  rice  pudding  without  any  crust,  topped 
up  with  inferior  American  cheese,  christened 
Cheddar  ; — when  we  arrived,  November  4th  (I 
remember  the  day,  as  it  is  my  saint's  day,  St. 
Charles  Borromeo)  at  "  The  Bell "  at  Leicester. 

The  outside  appearance  did  not  strike  me  as 
being  very  attractive,  but  I  was  highly  deHghted, 
when  I  paid  a  visit  to  the  bedroom  allotted  me, 
to  be  welcomed  by  an  exceedingly  neat  old  lady 
wearing  a  mob-cap  as  clean  as  a  new  pin.  The 
very  sight  of  her  made  me  feel  we  were  in 
comfortable  quarters.  The  dinner  was  excellent, 
wine    included,    the    whole    company    were     in 


AN   UNEXPECTED   BANQUET         117 

ecstasies.  Bettini  vowed  it  was  all  my  doing 
to  celebrate  my  saint's  day ;  it  was  not,  but  I 
took  the  hint  and  did  stand  treat  with  a  bottle 
or  two  of  the  finest  ''  Clos  de  Vougeot  "  I  ever 
drank.  It  was  all  the  conception  and  execution 
of  the  proprietor,  M.  Boyer,  whom  we  toasted 
with  musical  honours  ;  he  had  rescued  us  from 
the  ''  Slough  of  Despond " — gastronomically 
speaking — and  deserved  our  undying  gratitude. 

For  me,  flabby  mutton  and  bookbinder's  paste 
were  not  appetizing  food,  but  for  well-fed  Italians 
they  spelled  starvation .  We  were  all  so  invigorated 
by  this  unexpected  banquet,  that  the  roof 
of  the  Town  Hall,  where  the  concert  was  held, 
was  several  times  during  the  evening  in  jeopardy. 
I  learned  from  one  of  the  habitues ^  that  ''  The 
Bell ''  with  ''  The  Boyer  ''  was  renowned  among 
the  Nimrods  as  the  finest  hostelry  in  England. 


CHAPTER  XI 

BoiTo's  "Mefistofele"  at  Her  Majesty's  Theatre — Much  Noise 
and  Little  Music — Augustus  Harris  on  '  Instrumentation" — 
Schira  on  "  the  Truth  " — Three  Acts  Sufficient — A  Musical 
Nation — Music  for  Young  People. 

Nothing  particular  occurred  as  far  as  I  was 
concerned  during  the  spring  and  summer  of  1876. 
I  do  not  remember  when  Mapleson  brought  out 
Boito's  ''Mefistofele"  at  Her  Majesty's  Theatre, 
but  I  think  it  must  have  been  somewhere  about 
that  year.  I  had  heard  the  httle  flimsy  duett, 
sung  by  Christine  Nilsson  and  Trebelli-Bettini, 
several  times  at  private  and  public  concerts — 
it  had  its  little  rage  for  a  limited  period — and 
I  had  heard  a  great  deal  about  the  opera,  the 
genius  of  the  composer,  who  was  likewise  the 
author  of  the  libretto,  and  I  considered  it  my 
duty  to  go  and  hear  for  myself ;  experience  has 
made  me  dubious  about  '*  the  rage." 

I  purchased  a  ticket  for  the  circle,  so  as  to  feel 
entirely  independent,  and  fronting  the  stage  to 
have   a   good   view   of  all  that   passed  thereon. 

Christine  Nilsson,  Trebelli-Bettini,  Campanini, 
and  a  bass  of  reputation,  whose  name  I  have  for- 
gotten, were  the  principal  artistes  engaged  in  the 
work,  with  Arditi  for  conductor ;  so  I  felt  safe  with 
regard  to  the  execution.  Before  the  performance 
began  I  had  time  to  dip  into  the  libretto,  which 
appeared  to  me  a  compilation  of  all  the  unfamiUar 
words  the  author  could  extract  from  the  '*  Crusca  " 

118 


"  MEFISTOFELE  "  119 

dictionary.  Though  I  may  lay  claim  to  being 
a  good  Itahan  scholar,  the  chief  part  of  the  verses 
might  have  been  in  Chinese  for  any  meaning 
I  could  find  in  them,  so  I  pocketed  my  book  and 
prepared  to  listen  to  the  music. 

I  am  grieved  to  say  I  heard  very  little,  the 
prologue,  chiefly  fortissimo,  did  not  contain  any. 
I  was  so  stunned  with  the  noise  I  felt  half  inclined 
to  beat  a  retreat.  On  second  thoughts,  I  decided 
to  remain ;  it  might  be  that  the  vibration  produced 
by  such  a  hubbub  was  intended  by  the  composer 
to  start  any  little  deposits  incrusted  in  the  ears 
of  the  audience,  and  so  render  their  hearing  more 
acute  to  absorb  the  delicate  flights  of  his  genius 
to  follow.  I  personally  was  stunned  by  the  noise, 
but  I  was  already  becoming  accustomed  to  the 
*'  brazen  tempest,"  and  had  sufficiently  recovered 
my  sense  of  hearing  by  the  time  the  curtain  rose 
again  for  the  first  act. 

There  was  not  so  much  noise,  but  I  did  not 
discover  any  more  music  than  in  the  prologue. 
I  decided  when  the  curtain  fell  again  I  would  go 
home,  smoke  a  quiet  pipe,  and  retire  to  rest; 
a  sense  of  duty  caused  me  to  rescind  my  decision, 
it  might  be,  I  was  not  sufficiently  ''up-to-date" 
in  music  ;  with  that  idea  I  took  a  walk  round 
the  promenade  at  the  back  of  the  circle,  in  the 
hope  I  might  come  across  some  musical  acquaint- 
ance better  informed  than  myself,  and  procure 
a  key  or  clue  to  a  style  of  composition  that  did 
not  appeal  to  my  understanding. 


120      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY   LIFE 

The  first  acquaintance  I  met  was  not  musical, 
except  managerially,  none  other  than  Augustus 
Harris  (usually  styled  ''Druriolanus").  ''Halloa, 
Santley  !  "  he  shouted.  ''  Glad  to  see  you/'  and 
then  more  confidently,  ''  I  say,  this  is  fine  music." 
''  I  don't  think  so,"  said  I,  ''  I  may  be  somewhat 
premature  in  my  judgment,  but  I  must  say  so  far 
as  we  have  gone,  I  have  heard  plenty  of  noise, 
but  nothing  I  should  call  music."  *'  Well,"  said 
Drurio,  ''  at  any  rate,  its  d d  fine  instrumenta- 
tion." I  was  surprised,  and  said,  "  Oh  !  I  did  not 
know  you  had  studied  instrumentation.  Where 
did  you  study  ?  "  ''  My  dear  boy,"  he  rejoined, 
*'  I  know  nothing  about  it,  but  it  sounds  fine  to 
me.     Good-night !  " 

A  similar  dialogue  I  have  taken  part  in  with 
many  would-be  connoisseurs  of  music,  who  cannot 
distinguish  the  sound  of  the  fiddle  from  that  of 
the  flute,  and  who  include  all  brass  instruments 
under  the  generic  name  of  trumpets.  ''  Oh,  my 
Antonio,  I  do  know  of  those  that  therefore  only 
are  reputed  wise  for  talking  nonsense !  "  My 
next  encounter  was  with  one  who  contemned  my 
hasty  judgment,  and  told  me  I  must  hear  the  next 
act  which  was  full  of  gems  ;  he  was  sure  I  should 
be  in  love  with  it. 

A  few  paces  from  this  gentleman  I  stumbled 
on  Schira,  leaning  against  a  door-post,  and  looking 
as  miserable  and  depressed  as  a  rooster  on  a 
soaking  wet  day.  ''  HaUoa,  Schira,  I  am  very 
pleased  to  see  you,  how  are  you  ?  "  was  my  very 


MUSIC   OR  NOISE  121 

orignal  greeting,  to  which  he  rephed  with  a  grunt, 
''  Hunph  !  very  well,  how  are  you  ?  "  "  Fairly 
well,"  ;aid  I  ;  ''  what  do  you  think  of  this  ?  " 
to  whicL  he  rephed  with  the  question,  ''  What 
do  you  th^ik  of  it  ?  "  *'  Nothing,"  I  said.  He 
immediately  became  as  lively  as  a  cricket — "  Here, 
give  me  your  hand,"  he  burst  out,  seizing  it — 
"  you're  the  firs^t  person  I  have  heard  tell  the 
truth  to-night  !  "  I  said  only  what  I  thought, 
what  I  still  think,  and  what  I  believe  the  major 
portion  of  the  audience  thought ;  though  I  am 
quite  satisfied  that  many  of  them,  like  ''  Drurio- 

lanus,"  thought  *'  at  any  rate  it  was  d d  fine 

instrumentation  "  because  of  the  preponderance 
of  brass,  which  hke  Charity,  covers  a  multitude 
of  sins. 

I  obeyed  acquaintance  number  two,  and 
remained  to  hear  the  next  act,  and  a  remarkably 
dry  business  I  found  it,  in  spite  of  the  painful 
attempts  at  light  comedy  with  which  the  actors 
endeavoured  to  raise  the  audience  from  the 
infernal  gloom  of  the  preceding  scenes.  The  only 
effect  I  experienced  was  one  of  relief  from  noise. 
I  left  after  this  act,  laden  with  sufficient  trombone 
and  ophicleide  to  last  me  for  the  remainder  of  the 
season,  and  some  to  spare  for  future  ones.  The 
''  rage  "  did  not  last  long,  even  the  duett  seems 
to  have  lost  its  vogue. 

We  are  not  generally  supposed  to  be  an 
impressionable  people,  but  there  is  no  doubt  we 
are  subject  to  ''rages,"  musical  epidemics,  which 


122      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

attack  us  we  know  not  how  or  why,  and  qu'c  us 
we  know  not  how  or  why.  The  only  excerptions 
I  know  of  are  the  ''  Music  Hall  "  and  vvhat  is 
popularly  known  as  ''  Opera  Buff  "  ;  fAey  seem 
to  have  taken  root,  and  are  likely  co  flourish 
through  countless  ages  ! 

We  arrogate  to  ourselves  the  titte  of  a  ''  musical 
nation,"  yet  there  are  few,  very  few  lovers 
and  connoisseurs  of  music  among  us ;  so  few 
that  in  any  audience  they  might  be  counted  on 
the  fingers  of  the  two  hands.  And  no  wonder 
it  should  be  so  ;  our  children  have  little  oppor- 
tunity of  acquiring  a  taste  for  good  music  ;  their 
early  impressions  are  culled  from  pantomime 
and  coloured  minstrels,  which,  ''  bred  in  the 
bone,''  are  difficult  to  eradicate. 

Concerts,  especially  orchestral  or  instrumental 
concerts  of  any  kind,  are  not  food  for  children — 
indeed,  not  for  anyone  unless  acquainted  some- 
what with  instrumentation  and  the  nature  and 
use  of  the  instruments  employed  in  instrumental 
music.  Young  people  and  adults  who  have  no 
pretension  to  acquaintance  with  ''  Musical  Art," 
require  attraction  for  the  eye  as  well  as  for  the  ear ; 
opera,  such  as  the  French  Opera  Comique,  in 
my  opinion  is  the  best  school  in  which  to  cultivate 
a  taste  for  music  in  the  youthful  bosom. 


CHAPTER  XII 

Lyceum  Season,  1876 — "  The  Flying  Dutchman  " — Stormy 
Weather — The  Dutchman  without  a  Ship — Recovered  it  after 
Storm — Leaning  towards  Wagnerism — Discovered  Mistake — 
Orchestra  principal  Actor — "  Hullabaloo  " — Enigma  for  the 
Reader  to  Unravel — "  Joconde  " — A  Chapter  of  Accidents — 
"  Zampa  "  revived — A  Benefit  which  ended  in  Smoke — 
"  Pauline  "  my  Greatest  Failure — "  A  Bull  in  a  China  Shop  " 
Yorkshire  Criticism — A  Glass  of  Port — "Adonis" — Buck- 
stone's  Benefit,  Drury  Lane — Chas.  Kenney's  Benefit,  Gaiety 
— End  of  Theatrical  Career. 

The  repertoire  fixed  for  the  season  at  the 
Lyceum,  1876,  and  the  tour  following,  included 
besides  ''  The  Flying  Dutchman,"  only  one  other 
opera  new  to  me — Nicole's  *'  Joconde."  I 
suggested  this  opera  when  Rosa  and  I  were 
discussing  probable  attractions  before  I  made 
my  first  engagement  with  him  ;  he  scouted  the 
suggestion  then,  and  I  was  not  a  little  surprised 
when  he  proposed  making  ''  Joconde  "  one  of  the 
features  of  season  number  two.  As  far  as  we 
could  learn,  it  had  never  been  done  into  English, 
so  I  offered  to  make  a  translation  of  the  libretto 
and  fit  it  to  the  music. 

I  acknowledge  it  was  not  a  masterly  translation, 
but  I  effected  one  design  I  had  in  view,  viz.,  to 
prevent  the  interpolation  of  silly  dialogue  to 
create  hilarity  in  the  region  of  the  gods,  a  disease 
very  prevalent  in  English  opera.  We  were  to 
open  the  season  with  the  "  Dutchman  "  ;  I  found 
that    the   Birmingham    Festival    would   interfere 

123 


124      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

with  my  attendance  at  rehearsals  ;  in  consequence 
I  accepted  an  engagement  for  only  two  days  of 
the  festival ;  instead  of  thanking  me  for  my 
self-abnegation,  Rosa  contemned  my  folly  in 
throwing  away  a  conspicuous  sum  of  money. 

I  felt  there  was  indication  of  a  storm  brewing — 
distant  as  yet ;  but  it  was  not  long  before  the 
clouds  densified,  rumblings  were  heard  more 
frequent  and  distinct.  Our  stage-manager,  feeble 
at  best,  was  entirely  at  sea  in  directing  the  stage 
business  in  this  work.  Two  of  the  artistes 
engaged  in  it  who  had  faith  in  my  judgment  and 
experience,  begged  me  to  come  to  their  assistance. 
Rosa  having  begged  me  as  a  favour  to  do  anything 
I  could  to  help  in  the  stage  management,  I  took 
for  granted  that  I  was  doing  him  a  service  in 
acceding  to  the  request  of  my  comrades. 

At  a  rehearsal  in  which  they  became  involved 
in  a  fog,  from  which  I  was  showing  them  how  to 
extricate  themselves,  I  was  peremptorily  ordered 
off  the  stage  and  requested  not  to  interfere  except 
in  the  business  of  the  scenes  in  which  I  was 
personally  engaged.  I  did  not  resent  the  insult, 
and  never  again  intruded.  A  few  days  before 
the  opening  night  Rosa  informed  me  he  had 
decided  on  not  allowing  the  ship  to  appear  on 
the  stage,  although  it  was  already  constructed 
from  the  design  of  our  scene  painter,  who  had 
been  a  sailor.  I  tried  to  reason  with  him  on  the 
great  loss  of  effect  it  would  cause  to  the  first  act, 
to  no  purpose. 


A  STORM   AVERTED 


125 


I  saw  that  the  storm — the  cause  of  which  I 
never  fathomed — was  about  to  burst ;  I  averted 
it  by  holding  my  tongue  and  retiring  from  the 
argument.  I  felt  considerably  annoyed,  as  I 
knew  it  would  spoil  my  work  to  a  great  extent, 
and  involve  me  in  the  necessity  of  arranging  my 
business  afresh,  in  order  to  cover  the  absence  of 
my  ship.  ''  All's  well  that  ends  well  "  ;  somebody 
or  something  had  influence  to  change  our 
director's  mind,  and  I  sailed  into  port.  The 
opera  was  cast  as  follows  : — 


Vanderdecken 
Eric 

Steersman 
Dutch  Captain 
Senta    . 


Chas.  Santley 
F.  Packard 
J.  Turner 
— .  Stephens 
ostava  torriani 


The  performance  was  good,  all  the  artistes  en- 
gaged were  on  their  mettle,  the  opera  was  a  great 
financial,  and  I  may  say  also  artistic,  success, 
although  it  was  only  an  English  production. 
We  played  it  during  the  London  season  and  the 
provincial  tour  fifty  times.  One  week  in  London 
it  was  given  four  times,  which  might  easily  have 
been  stretched  to  six,  only  my  performances  were 
limited  to  four  per  week.  At  first  I  was  inclined 
to  imagine  I  had  become  a  Wagnerite,  but  further 
acquaintance  with  the  work  dispelled  the  illusion  ; 
it  did  not  wear  well.  By  the  time  I  had  got 
through  the  fifty  performances  I  had  had  quite 
enough  of  it,  and  I  do  not  think  I  could  be  tempted 
to  abandon  my  own  fireside  to  hear  it  again. 


126      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

I  had  always  been  under  the  impression  that 
in  an  opera  the  singers  were  the  first  consideration, 
being  the  interpreters  of  the  drama  ;  that  they 
should  be  able  to  interpret  their  part  in  the  drama 
through  the  medium  of  ''  The  Art  of  Singing  *'  ; 
that  the  orchestra — except  in  the  overture  or 
other  incidental  instrumental  pieces — should  serve 
as  an  accompaniment  to  the  singers,  and  with 
delicately  introduced  embellishments  enhance  the 
beauty  of  the  vocal  music.  Such  was  my  impres- 
sion before  I  sang  in  ''  The  Flying  Dutchman/'  and 
such  is  my  impression  still,  after  having  taken 
part  in  fifty-two — two  in  Italian  and  fifty  in 
English — performances  of  that  work. 

It  was  clear  to  me  that  was  not  Wagner's 
impression,  from  his  use  of  the  orchestra  in  the 
'^Dutchman" — a  simple  work  compared  with 
his  later,  and  childish  compared  to  his  latest 
works.  Embellishments  and  other  aids  to 
enhance  the  beauty  of  the  principal  part — ^that 
of  the  singer — were  to  me  conspicuous  by  their 
absence  ;  as  a  rule,  what  ought  to  have  been 
accompaniment,  played  the  principal  parts,  and 
the  singer  might  as  well  have  been  in  the  back 
street  as  on  the  stage. 

It  may  be  interesting  to  those  interested,  to 
see  two  people  with  a  great  development  of 
adipose  tissue,  as  I  have  invariably  witnessed  in 
'*  Tannhauser"  (1st  Act),  bawling  and  screaming 
at  each  other  for  a  considerable  time,  drowned 
by  an  orchestra  sufficiently  powerful  to  drown 


A  BURIED   ORCHESTRA  127 

a  chorus  ;  to  me  it  has  not  the  slightest  interest  ; 
I  feel  I  have  been  done  ;  I  go  to  hear  singers  and 
I  am  treated  to  an  orchestral  hullabaloo,  which, 
if  the  town  were  quiet,  I  might  have  heard  without 
moving  from  my  easy  chair  in  my  cottage  at 
St.  John's  Wood.  I  have  no  right  to  criticise 
Wagner,  nor  do  I  intend,  I  merely  write  my 
impressions  ;  I  know  he  was  a  genius,  a  great 
genius,  if  you  like,  but  my  impression  of  him  is  that 
his  evil  genius  led  him  down  to  the  musical  Styx 
instead  of  up  to  the  region  of  Celestial  harmony. 

It  is  no  doubt  highly  interesting  to  a  conductor 
to  watch  over  the  peregrinations  of  his  ''  predilec- 
tion." I  am  not  interested  in  seeing  the  back  of 
said  conductor's  head,  and  his  hand  directing  an 
orchestra  buried  underneath  the  stage  in  order 
that  the  necks  of  the  big  fiddles  may  not  interrupt 
the  view  of  those  of  the  spectators  who  may 
remain  awake,  nor  *'  the  brazen  tempest  "  disturb 
the  slumbers  of  those  whom  the  monotonous 
diddle,  diddle  of  tremulous  string  and  drone  of 
reed  instruments  have  lulled  to  sleep. 

*'  My  liege,  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  is  taken, 
and  we  have  cut  off  his  head."  I  wonder  what 
Macready  really  did  say  when  thus  ruthlessly 
robbed  of  his  ''  bit  of  fat."  I  might,  had  I  been 
in  his  place,  have  replied  indignantly,  ''  Caitiff, 
thou  art  not  worthy  of  decapitation,  go  hang 
thyself  upon  the  highest  giant  of  the  forest,  and 
may  thy  miserable  offal  be  the  food  of  curs  "  ; 
or,    being     too     flabbergasted    by    the    caitiff's 


128      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

presumption,  I  might  have  been  at  a  loss  for 
words,  and  merely  pronounced  the  significant 
interjection — '^  Ass  !  '* 

Mayhap,  the  unadorned  pate  of  a  boxed-up 
conductor  might  one  evening,  like  the  gory  head 
of  the  shade  of  Macduff,  turn  round  suddenly, 
and  directing  its  pit3dng  gaze  on  me,  silently 
pronounce  the  same  polite  interjection.  So  be 
it  !  I  am  not  unaccustomed  to  the  application 
of  this  elegant  "  expression  of  emotion,"  and,  as 
it  does  not  break  any  bones,  I  would  ''  let  it  slide  !'* 

Nicolo's  ''  Joconde  "  might  be  designated  the 
Antipodes  of  Wagner's  opera ;  the  plot  is 
interesting,  the  dialogue  sparkling  (in  its  original 
idiom,  less  so  in  my  translation),  and  the  music 
has  the  charm  of  melody,  elegance,  and  freedom 
from  noise  ;  probably  some  slight  additions  to 
the  instrumentation  executed  by  a  skilful  hand 
would  render  it  more  attractive  to  a  modern 
audience.  The  rehearsals  for  the  music  were 
carried  on  in  a  desultory  manner,  and  those  for 
the  dialogue,  which  is  abundant  and  highly 
important,  were  carried  on  on  the  stage  while  the 
band  was  rehearsing  in  the  orchestra.  No 
announcement  of  the  performance  was  made 
until  a  day  or  two  before  the  opera  was  produced. 

The  first  night  Chas.  Lyall,  who  had  a  small 
though  very  important  part,  was  too  unwell  to 
appear,  and  his  place  was  taken  by  Aynsley  Cook 
at  a  few  hours'  notice.  The  principal  viola, 
who  had  to  play   an   ohhligato    to  my  first  air, 


''  PAULINE  "  129 

absented  himself  and  sent  a  substitute  who  had 
never  seen  the  music  ;  the  tenor,  with  whom  I  had 
a  long,  lively  dialogue  before  this  air,  did  not 
know  a  word  of  his  part,  and  I  had  to  prompt 
him  throughout ;  when  I  gave  the  ''  cue  "  for  the 
air,  the  conductor  was  occupied  admiring  the 
miserable  array  of  empty  seats,  and  I  had  to 
stamp  twice  on  the  stage  to  recall  his  attention 
to  his  duty.  The  performance,  needless  to  say, 
was  not  a  success,  I  was  only  astonished  that 
we  got  through  it  at  all.  To  paraphrase  a  popular 
saying,  ''  Theatrical  performers  (if  they  keep 
their  eyes  open)  see  strange  things  !  " 

During  the  season  I  played  Zampa  again; 
the  opera  was  a  great  success,  as  also  on  the 
provincial  tour.  We  had  also  one  performance 
of  ''  The  Porter  of  Havre,"  announced — against 
my  wish — for  my  benefit.  I  did  not  reap  any 
benefit  that  I  am  aware  of  from  this  act  of 
generosity  on  the  part  of  the  management.  By 
some  extraordinary  combination  of  circumstances, 
friends  of  mine  who  could  not  obtain  seats  in  the 
stalls,  and  had  to  secure  places  in  the  back  row 
of  the  dress  circle  in  the  morning,  were  surprised 
to  find  the  stalls,  except  the  front  row,  nearly 
empty  in  the  evening. 

I  left  what  I  consider  the  most  important 
feature  of  the  season,  as  regards  English  art, 
to  the  last  :  "  '  Pauline,'  by  Frederick  H.  Cowen, 
expressly  composed  for  the  Rosa  Company.'* 
The  libretto  was  supplied  by  Mr.  Henry  Hersee, 

9— (2286) 


130      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

for  a  description  of  which  I  refer  the  reader  to 
its  share  in  the  criticism  of  the  opera  which 
appeared  in  The  Daily  Telegraphy  written  by 
Joseph  Bennett.  I  hope  I  may  be  allowed  to 
state,  without  offence,  that  it  was  in  perfect 
accordance  with  my  own  views  and  afforded  me 
no  small  amount  of  amusement. 

When  Cowen  first  imparted  to  me  the  subject 
he  proposed  to  adopt  for  his  opera,  I  advised  him 
against  it,  and,  if  it  were  intended  that  I  should 
take  part  in  it,  to  choose  rather  Daddy  Hard- 
acre  (another  of  Fred.  Robson's  great  impersona- 
tions), adapted  from  ''  La  fille  de  Favare.''  In 
this  I  could  see  my  way  to  be  of  great  assistance 
to  him,  which  I  could  not  in  ''  The  Lady  of  Lyons," 
unless  he  could  make  a  good  part  of  Colonel 
Damas.  But  the  Colonel  was  to  be  eliminated, 
and  consequently  I  also. 

Before  Cowen  had  proceeded  far  with  his  work, 
a  difficulty  arose  about  who  could  be  entrusted 
with  the  part  of  Claude  Melnotte.  I,  in  an  unlucky 
moment,  stepped  into  the  breach  and  offered  to 
undertake  the  part,  if  the  composer  felt  prepared 
to  suit  the  music  to  my  means  ;  my  offer  was 
accepted.  If  I  had  been  stirred  by  ambition, 
my  subsequent  regret  would  have  been  on  my  own 
account  ;  as  it  was  not  ambition,  but  pure  desire 
to  be  of  service  to  one  whom  I  had  known  from  a 
baby,  almost,  and  for  whom  I  always  entertained 
sincere  regard  and  admiration,  my  sole  regret  was 
that  my  service  was  so  indifferently  rendered. 


JOHN    PARRY 


'^THE   PURITAN'S   DAUGHTER"    131 

Balfe  entrusted  the  part  of  Clifford  in  ''  The 
Puritan's  Daughter  "  to  me  on  his  own  responsi- 
biHty,  against  the  desire  of  the  management,  at 
Co  vent  Garden  in  1860.  I  was  at  that  time  a 
mere  tyro,  and  as  I  achieved  success  then,  I 
imagined  that,  with  my  experience  on  the  stage 
since,  I  should  not  meet  with  any  difficulty  in 
portraying  a  presentable  Claude.  I  made  the 
mistake  of  "  counting  my  chickens  before  they 
were  hatched  "  in  this  instance.  In  extenuation 
of,  not  as  an  excuse  for,  my  failure — for  a  decided 
failure  my  impersonation  proved — I  will  beg 
leave  to  say  I  was  hampered  by  the  compiler 
of  the  libretto,  w^ho  tried  to  improve  Bulwer 
Lytton,  without  success  ;  and  my  Pauline^  who 
was  not  fitted  for  the  melodramatic  heroine.  I 
was  perfectly  satisfied  with  my  musical  part, 
it  fitted  me  ''  like  a  glove  "  ;  I  was  totally  dis- 
satisfied with  my  dramatic  part,  I  felt  like  *'  a  bull  in 
a  china  shop,"  and  quite  believe  I  looked  like  one. 
The  season  must  have  been  successful  both 
artistically  and  financially,  the  only  blot  on  the 
one  was  that  of  my  own  spattering,  and  on  the 
other  the  vagaries  of  the  box  office,  which  blotted 
to  a  great  extent  the  receipts  at  the  performances 
of  "  Joconde  "  and  "  The  Porter's  Knot." 

We  commenced  the  tour  soon  after  we  term- 
inated the  London  season.  Before  Christmas  we 
played  at  Sheffield,  and  at  the  Theatre  Royal, 
Dublin,  where  we  had  crowded  houses  every 
night ;     naturally    ''  The      Siege    of    Rochelle " 


132      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

created  a  ''  furore ''  ;  the  theatre  was  packed 
to  do  honour  to  the  darhn'  of  all  musical  Irishmen, 
Michael  Wilham  Balfe.  We  played  only  the 
second  act  of  the  ''  Dutchman  *'  at  Sheffield. 
The  day  after  the  performance  I  called  on  an 
acquaintance  who  had  been  present.  I  expected 
to  hear  some  praise,  but  all  he  had  to  say  was, 
''  Eh,  what  a  guy  you  wor  last  night ;  I  wouldn^t 
a'  made  such  a  guy  of  myself  for  summat.'* 

I  returned  home  to  spend  the  Christmas  holidays, 
which  only  lasted  a  few  days,  then  rejoined  the 
company  at  Hanley.  I  felt  very  depressed,  and 
when  I  learned  we  were  to  open  with ''  The  Siege  of 
Rochelle,"  my  courage  dropped  into  my  boots; 
how  I  was  to  screw  up  my  spirits  to  the  pitch  of 
liveliness  my  part  demanded,  I  could  not  imagine. 

My  friend  and  comrade,  Lyall,  was  at  the  Hotel 
waiting  for  me  (at  that  time  we  always  lodged 
together  ''on  tour");  at  dinner  I  took  a  moderate 
share  of  claret,  and  tried  after  to  clear  my  senses 
with  forty  winks,  but  the  winks  would  not  come, 
so  friend  Charles  suggested  that  probably  a  glass 
of  port  would  effect  the  object  I  had  in  view. 
It  certainly  at  the  time  succeeded,  but  when  I 
was  dressed  to  appear  on  the  stage  everything 
about  me  seemed  to  have  taken  a  fit  of  anticipa- 
ting the  waltz,  which  put  me  in  such  a  fright, 
I  felt  I  could  not  go  on. 

However,  with  Lancashire  obstinacy  I  girded 
up  my  loins  and  assumed  a  virtue  I  certainly 
did   not    at   that    moment    possess ;     I    bounced 


A   PRACTICAL   JOKE  133 

on  to  the  stage  as  usual ;  the  few  words  which 
introduce  the  opening  song,  '*  Travellers  all  of 
every  station/'  seemed  to  me  to  issue  in  a 
conglomerate  mass.  I  looked  at  Rosa,  he  was 
staring  at  me  with  a  pair  of  eyes  like  saucers 
convex  side  out.  How  I  got  through  the  song 
(thirty  or  forty  pages  of  continual  chatter)  I  have 
no  idea,  but  I  landed  safely  at  the  end,  and  with 
my  head  as  clear  and  my  legs  as  firm  as  ever 
they  were.  I  resolved,  and  kept  the  resolution, 
never  again  to  risk  taking  the  ''  infection,"  and 
thus  spare  the  necessity  of  undergoing  the  trying 
''  remedy." 

At  Birmingham  I  played  an  innocent  practical 
joke  on  one  of  our  company.  He  was  a  ''  lovely 
man,"  one  of  those  whom  according  to  their  own 
account  no  female  heart  could  withstand.  He 
never  went  to  a  town  that  he  did  not  receive 
souvenirs  of  various  kinds  from  his  worshippers  : 
valuable  rings,  pins,  studs,  in  fact  jewellery 
sufficient  to  set  him  up  in  business.  These 
souvenirs  were  the  offerings  of  anonymous 
admirers,  so  he  said,  when  he  handed  them  round 
for  inspection. 

Being  on  the  spot  I  was  seized  with  an  un- 
conquerable desire  to  show  my  appreciation 
of  his  beauty  by  sending  him  a  Brummagem 
trifle  anonymously.  Lyall  and  I  were  going 
through  a  passage  on  the  road  home  from  the 
theatre  one  day  after  rehearsal,  when  my  attention 
was  attracted  by  a  gorgeous  array   of  neckties 


134      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

or  small  cravats  of  all  colours  in  a  shop  window. 
I  stepped  into  the  shop  and  found  they  were  sold 
in  boxes  of  two  dozen  each,  so  I  purchased  a 
couple  of  boxes,  had  them  made  into  a  parcel, 
and  addressed  to  ''  Adonis,  Stage  Door,  Theatre 
Royal,  from  his  loving  Fanny." 

Lyall  and  I  were  both  playing  that  evening, 
so  we  were  on  the  look  out  for  the  denouement. 
Word  was  soon  spread  that  the  fortunate  beauty 
was  in  the  theatre,  and  had  received  another 
present  of  much  larger  dimensions  than  usual  ; 
we  received  the  information  with  the  customary 
display  of  jealousy.  The  first  person  allowed  to 
have  a  peep  at  the  treasure  was  the  prima  donna^ 
who  indulged  in  a  scream  of  laughter  as  much 
caused  by  the  face  of  Adonis  when  he  discovered 
the  nature  of  the  present  from  his  loving  Fanny, 
as  by  the  gaudy  rubbish  contained  in  the  parcel. 

Who  was  the  audacious  perpetrator  of  such 
a  scandalous  joke  ?  Who  had  dared  to  cast  such 
a  slur  upon  the  magnetic  attractions  of  the  ''  thing 
of  beauty  "  ?  He  must  be  discovered,  not  she, 
no  she  would  have  had  the  heart  so  to  desecrate 
the  universal  idol.  I  happened  to  be  waiting 
at  the  back  of  the  drop  ;  catching  sight  of  me, 
he  came  up  and  informed  me  he  believed  I  was 
the  author  of  the  scandal.  I  innocently  asked 
''  what  was  the  scandal  to  which  he  referred  ?  " 
He  stuck  the  parcel  under  my  nose  and  replied 
in  tragic  accents,  ''  This,  you  know  all  about  it." 
''  How  on  earth,"  said  I,  ''  can  I  know  anything 


A   PROSPECT   OF   REST  135 

about  this^  when  it  is  tied  up  in  a  parcel/'  and 
added,  "  I  see  it  is  sent  by  your  loving  Fanny,  one 
of  your  numerous  conquests,  I  presume  ;  let  me 
congratulate  you  on  this  addition  to  your  stock." 
'*  Ah  !  "  said  he,  with  a  sigh  of  disappointment, 
''  I  see  you  are  not  the  culprit,  but  I'll  find  him 
out  and  then  .  .  .  ."  Shortly  after,  when  we 
were  travelling  together  with  some  of  our  comrades, 
I  let  "  the  cat  out  of  the  bag,"  and  he  had  to 
undergo  a  pelting  storm  of  **  chaff,"  which  I  must 
say  he  bore  with  more  equanimity  than  I  expected. 
We  never  heard  any  more  of  his  conquests  from 
that  time. 

We  finished  our  season  and  the  tour  at  Birming- 
ham with  "  Pauline."  I  was  tired  and  altogether 
out  of  sorts,  but  the  prospect  of  immediate  release 
from  bondage  and  consequent  rest  for  a  time 
from  work,  cheered  me,  and  I  got  through  the 
performance  satisfactorily.  I  was  seated  at 
supper  in  my  hotel,  all  alone,  meditating  on  the 
events  of  what  I  resolved  should  be  my  last 
operatic  engagement,  when  Mr.  Rosa  was 
announced.  He  thanked  me  for  my  zeal  and 
congratulated  me  on  the  successes  I  had  achieved, 
and  asked  me  point  blank  if  I  would  renew  my 
engagement  for  another  season,  indicating  that 
he  was  prepared  to  accede  to  any  terms,  in 
discretion,  I  might  demand,  to  which  I  replied, 
simply  and  firmly,  ''  No  !  "  He  asked  me  '*  Why 
not?"  ''For  several  reasons,"  I  replied;  ''the 
principal  and  the  only  one  I  need  mention  is,  that 


136      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 


I  have  had  enough  of  the  theatre,  and  have  firmly 
resolved  never  to  enter  one  again  as  a  performer." 

He  endeavoured  to  argue  me  out  of  my 
resolution,  but  finding  me  firm,  he  gave  it  up. 
He  asked  me  if  I  was  **  in  treaty  with  any  other 
management  ?"  I  replied,  '*  I  am  not  "  ;  he  rose 
to  go,  we  wished  each  other  ''  good  luck  "  in  the 
future  and  parted  amicably. 

We  met  again,  some  time  after,  taking  part  in 
Haydn's  '*  Toy  Symphony  "  at  a  concert  organized 
by  Viscountess  Folkestone  at  St.  James's  Hall,  when 
we  played  the  second  violins,  August  Manns  and 
W.  G.  Cusins  being  the  first.  Halle  and  Arthur 
Sullivan  played  toy  instruments,  and  Henry  Leslie 
conducted. 

On  June  8th,  1876,  I  played  the  small  part  of  Sir 
Harry  in '  The  School  for  Scandal,"  performed  for  the 
benefit  of  J.  B.Buckstone,  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre. 
The  caste  I  insert,  as  it  was  a  remarkable  one  : — 


Sir  Peter  Teazle  . 

.  Mr. 

Phelps 

Sir  Oliver  Surface 

.  Mr. 

S.  Emery 

Joseph  Surface     . 

.  Mr. 

Henry  Irving 

Charles  Surface    . 

.  Mr. 

Charles  Mathews 

Sir  Benjamin  Backbite. 

.  Mr. 

BUCKSTONE 

Crabtree 

.  Mr. 

Ryder 

Careless 

.  Mr. 

COGHLAN 

Trip   .... 

.  Mr. 

Bancroft 

Moses. 

.  Mr. 

David  James 

Snake. 

.  Mr. 

Benjamin  Webster 

Rowley 

.  Mr. 

H.  Howe 

Sir  Harry  (with  the  song  "  He 

re's  to  Mr. 

Santley 

the  Maiden  ") 

Musical  Guest 

.  Mr. 

John  Parry 

Sir  Tohy 

.  Mr. 

EVERILL 

Servant  to  Joseph  Surface 

.  Mr. 

E.  Righton 

a 


FREE   AT  LAST  137 


Servant  to  Sir  Peter  Teazle 

Servant  to  Lady  Sneerwell 

Lady  Teazle 

Mrs.  Candour 

Lady  Sneerwell 

Marie 

Lady  Teazle's  Maid 


Mr.  C.  Sugden 


.  Mr.  Arthur  Cecil 
.  Miss  Neilson 
.  Mrs.  Stirling 
.  Mrs.  Alfred  Mellon 
.  Miss  Lucy  Buckstone 
.  Miss  E.  Farren 
Guests : — Mesdames   Carlotta   Addison,    E.    Thorne,    B. 
Henri,  M.  Harris,  H.  Coveney,  C.  Jecks,  Everard,  etc., 
and  Messrs.  Horace  Wigan,  R.  Scutar,  J.  Maclean, 
C.  Cooper,  Weathersby,  Temple,  etc. 

I  had  the  great  pleasure  of  making  the  personal 

acquaintance  of  my  first   ''  musical  love/'   John 

Parry,  who  as  the  **  musical  guest/'  accompanied 

me  in  my  song,  ''  Here's  to  the  Maiden." 

On  June  20th,  1877,  I  played  the  same  part 
in  a  performance  for  the  benefit  of  Charles  Lamb 
Kenney.  I  cannot  give  the  entire  caste,  which 
included  Chas.  Kelly,  Henry  Kemble,  Vollaire, 
Lin  Rayne,  Henry  Neville,  John  Clayton,  Johnny 
Clark,  Forbes  Robertson,  Ellen  Terry,  Mrs. 
Arthur  StirHng,  Mrs.  Alfred  Mellon,  etc.  After 
the  comedy  Henry  Irving  recited  ''  The  Dream 
of  Eugene  Aram,"  and  Reeves  played  Tom  Tug 
in  ''  The  Waterman." 

So  ended  my  theatrical  career  ;  I  rejoiced  to 
be  liberated  from  its  accessorial  annoyances,  but 
my  secession  from  the  stage  and  consequent 
return  to  the  monotony  of  the  concert  platform 
cost  me  a  pang  whose  smart  I  felt  acutely  for 
many  years  ;  and  feel  still  when  I  am  intent  on 
an  interesting  scene  in  a  play  and  think  how  much 
better  I  could  play  some  favourite  scene  in  one  of 
my  old  parts  now,  if  I  could  only  have  another  try  ! 


CHAPTER   XIII 

John  Henry  Agnew — Our  Trip  to  Italy — Doing  Florence — Pisa 
under  Difficulties — British  Respect  for  Names — American 
Indifference  of  Art — Aromatic  Venice — A  Feast  of  St.  Mark — 
Goldoni  at  Home — Effects  of  Venetian  Exhalations — Concert 
for  Mario. 

The  worries  and  anxieties  I  had  undergone 
had  considerably  affected  my  health,  which 
complete  cessation  from  work  with  genial 
occupation  for  my  mind,  I  hoped  would  soon 
reinstate. 

My  friend,  John  Henry  Agnew,  with  whom  I 
always  **  put  up  "  during  my  frequent  visits  to 
Manchester,  had  sent  his  daughters  to  Florence, 
accompanied  by  their  governess,  that  they  might 
acquire  a  knowledge  and  correct  pronunciation 
of  the  Italian  language.  During  their  absence 
J.  H.  and  I  had  the  house  to  ourselves  and 
the  pleasant  duty  of  entertaining  each  other  at 
dinner  ;  after  dinner  we  retired  to  the  smoking- 
room,  where  each  one  generally  entertained 
himself  ;  at  rare  intervals  we  ''  joined  issue  "  in 
a  brief  dialogue. 

One  evening,  after  enjoying  ourselves  at  table, 
we  repaired  as  usual  to  the  *'  den  "  ;  we  each 
lighted  a  cigar  long  enough  for  the  bowsprit  of 
a  yacht — in  quality  even  surpassing  quantity — 
each  chose  a  book,  settled  down  in  an  easy  chair, 
and   read   on   until   the   cigars   were   consumed, 

138 


THE   REAL  THING  139 

when  J.  H.  exclaimed,  ''That's  the  pleasantest 
evening  I  beheve  I  ever  passed "  ;  I  echoed 
''  ditto  "  ;  neither  of  us  had  spoken  a  word  for 
two  hours.  During  that  visit  we  arranged — as 
I  intended  going  away  for  a  change — to  go 
together,  and  bring  the  girls  home. 

We  started  on  our  expedition  in  the  early  part 
of  April,  and  after  a  journey  of  two  days  and 
two  nights,  arrived  at  six  o'clock  on  the  third 
day  at  Florence.  Spite  of  the  long  journey, 
after  a  bath  and  brush  up,  I  felt  as  fresh  as  a  lark, 
ready  for  anything,  except  sight-seeing ;  our 
hostess  made  her  appearance,  and  after  presenting 
me  to  her,  J.  H.  went  to  look  after  his  daughters. 
I  then  enjoyed,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  a  quiet 
conversation  with  an  Italian  who  talked  the 
pure  idiom.  It  was  a  revelation  to  me,  for  I  had 
never  been  in  Tuscany. 

During  my  student  days  I  had  not  the  means 
for  ''  gadding  about,"  and  since  that  period  I  had 
confined  my  Italian  visits  to  the  lake  district  in 
the  north.  Our  hostess.  La  Signora  Newton, 
was  the  widow  of  an  Englishman  ;  she  spoke, 
as  I  have  said,  the  pure  idiom  ;  after  we  had 
conversed  a  short  time,  she  suddenly  exclaimed, 
"  Thank  God  !  I  was  afraid  I  was  doomed  to 
undergo  the  torture  of  trying  to  make  a  blundering 
foreigner  understand  me  (she  did  not  speak  a 
word  of  English),  and  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
thankful  I  am  to  find  you  talk  Itahan  well  and 
fluently  "  ;    so  we  were  both  content.     She  had 


140      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

one  daughter  living  with  her  ;  another  with  her 
husband — a  German  baron — came  to  stay  with 
her  shortly  after  our  arrival,  so  amongst  other 
advantages  I  reaped  from  my  stay,  I  learned 
Italian  with  greater  propriety. 

After  the  early  meal,  I  was  hastened  off  to  the 
Palazzo  Vecchio,  much  to  my  consternation, 
as  I  have  always  been  in  the  habit  of  inspecting 
my  ground  before  entering  upon  studies  of  art. 
I  took  my  potion  without  murmur,  smothered 
a  natural  desire  to  substitute  the  horizontal 
for  the  vertical  position,  and  behaved  myself 
fairly  well.  I  had,  and  have,  a  great  objection 
to  scudding  through  room  after  room  bestowing 
a  cursory  glance  on  pictures  which  require,  each 
one,  patient,  prolonged  study.  I  certainly  did 
not  derive  any  benefit  from  that  visit,  and  was 
very  glad  when  the  clock  announced  it  was  time 
to  return  to  our  lodgings  to  consume  the  mid-day 
meal. 

As  we  remained  at  Florence  about  a  fortnight, 
I  had  ample  time  to  take  in  a  stock  of  Art  in  my 
own  fashion ;  as  more  than  enough  has  been 
written  by  able  pens  on  the  subject,  I  am  not 
going  to  trouble  you  with  my  impressions.  We 
made  an  excursion  to  Pisa ;  the  day  chosen  was 
unfortunate  for  me. 

During  the  night  preceding  I  was  aroused  from 
my  slumbers  by  a  most  dreadful  smell ;  I  might 
have  been  immersed  in  the  *'  bolgia,'*  in  which 
Dante    places    the    ''  flatterers."     I    fell    asleep 


TOURIST  ART-CRITICISM  141 

again,  my  dreams  were  connected  with  some  such 
quarter ;  when  I  awoke  in  the  morning,  eyes, 
nose,  mouth,  in  fact  my  whole  system,  seemed 
saturated  with  filthy  vapour.  I  crept  out  of 
bed  and  made  a  voyage  to  discover  the  cause, 
and  found  that  the  common  cesspool  of  the 
palace  I  inhabited  had  been  emptied  during 
the  night.  I  would  joyfully  have  excused  myself 
from  joining  the  party  of  pleasure,  but  I  hoped 
that  a  day  in  the  fresh  air  would  restore  me. 
A  nice  day  I  passed  ;  arrived  at  Pisa  we  called 
at  an  hotel  to  order  food  and  a  room  for  the 
ladies,  then  off  we  set  to  visit  the  cathedral  and 
the  leaning  tower  ;  this  finished  me,  I  excused 
myself  and  returned  to  the  hotel,  took  possession 
of  the  room  we  had  ordered,  lay  down  on  the  bed 
and  slept  until  it  was  time  to  catch  the  train  to 
return  to  Florence.  Arrived  there,  I  consulted 
a  resident  English  doctor,  who  gave  me  some 
medicine  which  restored  me  sufficiently  to  enjoy 
the  remainder  of  my  stay  in  Tuscany. 

From  Florence  we  went  to  Venice,  remaining 
one  night  at  Bologna,  on  the  way,  where  we 
visited  the  ''  Campo  Santo,"  the  cathedral,  and 
picture  gallery.  Here,  whilst  I  was  admiring 
Raphael's  St.  Cecilia,  two  elderly  English  ladies 
came  up,  and  the  following  dialogue  ensued. 
''  That  seems  a  fine  picture — who  painted  it  ?  " 
''  I  don't  know,  look  in  the  catalogue."  ''  Here 
it  is,  Sanzio  ;  who  was  Sanzio,  I  never  heard  of 
him  ;  it  must  be  good  or  it  would  not  be  here  !  " 


142      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

They  were  moving  off  when  the  spirit  moved 
me  to  take  pity  on  them.  Stepping  up  to  them 
I  said,  ''  That  is  Raphael's  picture  of  St.  Ceciha." 
'^  But/'  said  one  of  them,  ''  it  gives  here  Sanzio 
as  the  name  of  the  painter  !  "  ''  True,"  I  rephed, 
''  Sanzio  was  Raphael's  other  name,  whether 
bestowed  on  him  by  his  godfathers  and  godmothers 
I  do  not  know,  but  so  he  was  called."  They 
tendered  me  profuse  thanks  for  solving  the 
knotty  problem,  and  I  left  them  moving  up 
chairs  to  make  a  closer  inspection  of  the  fine  work. 

A  few  years  later  I  visited  Florence  again,  and 
as  I  was  intently  studying  Correggio's  picture 
of  the  Madonna  gazing  on  the  infant  Saviour 
lying  on  the  ground,  two  impolite  youths 
interposed  themselves  between  me  and  the 
picture .  I  had  not  to  wait  long  for  their  departure ; 
after  a  minute's  consideration,  one  said  to  the 
other,  ''  What  a  pity  it  is  they  allow  these  old 
pictures  to  get  so  yellow.  Come  on  !  "  They 
were  visitors  from  the  New  World  ! 

Venice  nearly  made  an  end  of  me  ;  after  two 
days'  sojourn  I  lost  the  sense  of  taste  ;  would  it 
had  been  the  sense  of  smell !  Though  it  was 
early  in  the  year,  and  mosquitos  had  not  yet 
commenced  their  attacks  on  foreign  blood,  I 
became  very  feverish  and  longed  to  get  into  a 
purer  atmosphere. 

The  day  after  we  arrived,  my  first  remark  to 

'J.  H.  was  that  I  wished  it  were  possible  to  see 

''  Goldoni   e  le   sue  sedici  commedie  "  performed 


ST.   MARK'S,   VENICE  143 

in  the  city  in  which  it  was  written.  I  had  seen 
the  play  three  or  four  times  in  Milan  and,  ever 
since,  I  had  entertained  that  desire.  On  stepping 
out  of  the  hotel  after  early  breakfast  next  morning, 
the  first  object  which  caught  my  eye  was  a  bill 
announcing  a  representation  of  "  Goldoni,"  etc., 
for  that  same  evening. 

Our  first  visit  was  to  St.  Mark's,  where  we  found 
there  was  to  be  a  great  function  in  celebration 
of  the  feast-day  of  St.  Mark,  the  patron  saint 
of  Venice  ;  there  was  to  be  high  Mass  at  11 
o'clock,  the  music  to  be  performed  by  full 
orchestra  and  chorus,  followed  by  a  procession 
round  the  piazza.  We  went  to  visit  the  cathedral 
and  remained  to  assist  at  Mass  and  see  the 
procession.  The  whole  function — the  celebration 
of  Mass,  the  orchestra  and  singers  and  their 
execution  of  the  Mass,  one  of  Schubert's,  the 
procession,  everything  was  perfect.  Without 
offer  of  a  bribe,  an  attendant  placed  us  in  a 
gallery  over  the  great  entrance,  where  we  found 
comfortable  seats,  and  had  an  uninterrupted 
view  of  the  high  altar.  We  were  all  so  interested 
that  we  forgot  all  about  ''  second  breakfast " 
until  the  function  ended,  at  nearly  two  o'clock. 
In  the  evening  we  were  present  at  the  performance 
of  ''  Goldoni,"  etc.,  which  cost  us  one  franc  apiece, 
as  J.  H.  insisted  on  remaining  in  the  pit,  where 
between  the  acts  we  could  walk  about,  or 
"  stretch  our  legs,"  with  an  ice  or  cool  drink  at 
the  buffet. 


144      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

The  foul  exhalations  from  the  lesser  canals — 
which,  without  impropriety,  might  be  designated 
'*  open  drains  " — caused  a  return  of  the  malady 
I  suffered  from  in  Florence — suppressed,  not 
cured.  I  made  up  my  mind  to  move  on,  much 
against  my  inclination,  for  spite  of  the  deadly 
enemy  lurking  for  me  in  its  waters,  I  dearly  love 
Venice ;  my  friends  would  not  hear  of  our 
separating,  so  we  all  packed  off  to  Milan.  There 
I  experienced  the  full  effect  of  the  noxious  gases 
I  had  inhaled  ;  without  doubt  I  was  suffering 
from  typhoid  fever.  We  remained  one  day  for 
my  friends  to  visit  the  ''  duomo,"  S.  Ambrose, 
and  of  course  to  see  Leonardo  da  Vinci's  '*  The 
Last  Supper,"  then  we  bent  our  steps  homeward  ; 
I  parted  with  the  others  at  Paris  and  returned 
direct  to  London  ;  instead  of  better,  as  I  hoped, 
much  worse  for  my  trip. 

Naturally  of  a  strong  constitution,  I  felt  better 
after  a  few  days'  tranquillity  in  my  own  home. 
The  Sunday  after  my  return — if  my  memory 
serves  me,  it  was  on  this  day  that  a  training  ship 
manned  by  youths  was  capsized  in  a  fearful 
squall  off  Ramsgate — I  took  my  youngest 
daughter  for  a  walk  to  Hampstead  Heath  ;  it 
was  a  beautiful  day  when  we  started,  but  when 
we  arrived  at  the  pond,  near  "  Jack  Straw's 
Castle,"  the  sky  became  suddenly  overcast,  a 
bitter  north-east  wind  sprung  up,  chilling  me 
to  the  marrow.  I  felt  it  strike  me  on  the  chest 
like  a  blow  from  a  hammer  ;    I  could  scarcely 


A  DIAGNOSIS  145 

speak,  my  voice  had  almost  disappeared ;  we 
hurried  back  home,  where  the  warmth  restored 
me  somewhat  ;  but  the  next  morning  I  could 
not  speak  beyond  a  whisper,  and  might  have 
been  dumb  for  any  musical  sound  I  could  produce. 

Alarmed,  I  paid  an  early  visit  to  my  doctor, 
who,  after  a  minute  examination  of  my  throat 
and  chest,  pronounced  them  both  in  perfectly 
healthy  condition ;  and  the  only  evil  I  was 
suffering  from  was  extreme  debility,  which  a 
tonic  would  soon  remedy.  I  took  what  he  pre- 
scribed without  any  good  effect  as  far  as  I  could 
discover.  I  was  naturally  nervous  about  my 
*'  stock-in-trade,''  especially  as  I  was  bound  to 
sing  at  a  concert  organized  for  the  benefit  of  my 
old  friend  Mario  (of  which  more  anon)  at  an  early 
date. 

I  paid  another  visit  to  my  doctor  ]  he  reiterated 
what  he  had  told  me  at  my  first  visit,  and  seeing 
that  I  was  dubious,  requested  me  to  consult  Dr. 
(now  Sir)  Herman  Weber,  as  I  had  known  him 
for  some  time,  in  whose  advice  he  knew  I  had 
great  faith.  I  accordingly  called  on  Dr.  Weber 
immediately,  and  fortunately  found  him  at  home  ; 
he  kindly  examined  me  at  once,  and  told  me  my 
throat — which  he  had  before  pronounced  one 
of  the  most  perfectly  formed  singing  throats  he 
had  ever  seen — and  my  lungs  were  in  a  perfectly 
healthy  condition ;  that  I  was  simply  ''  run  down," 
and  that  the  medicine  I  was  taking  was  all  I 
required. 

10— (2286) 


146      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

The  concert  for  Mario  was  suggested  in  a  letter 
to  me  from  Mrs.  Sartoris,  who  at  the  time  was 
residing  in  Rome.  She  informed  me  that  Mario 
was  Hving  in  an  apartment  on  the  Corso,  in  such 
circumstances  that  he  was  obhged  to  forego  not 
only  any  little  luxuries  he  was  accustomed  to, 
but  even  necessaries  ;  she  asked  me  if  it  would 
be  possible  to  aid  him  in  any  way.  I  consulted 
Arthur  ChappeU,  and  we  agreed  that,  if  we  could 
organize  an  attractive  concert,  we  might  count 
on  raising  a  considerable  sum.  Christine  Nilsson, 
Reeves,  Foli,  and  Pinsuti  offered  kindly  to  assist. 
Reeves  was  unfortunately  unable  to  appear,  but 
sent  a  most  liberal  donation  to  add  to  the  receipts 
of  the  concert,  in  the  shape  of  a  cheque  for  £100. 

I  was  fortunately  able  to  appear  (though  not 
"  in  condition  ")  and  get  through  my  share  of 
the  programme  ;  Christine  Nilsson  sang  beauti- 
fully. Foli  was  in  fine  voice  and  sang  well,  and 
Pinsuti  accompanied  the  whole  programme  in  his 
well-known  masterly  style.  The  net  receipts  of 
the  concert  amounted  to  £1,500.  A  private 
subscription,  which  had  been  raised  among  Mario's 
old  friends  and  admirers,  amounted  to  £2,500. 
By  arrangement  between  the  gentlemen  who 
organized  the  subscription,  and  Arthur  Chappell 
— who  acted  as  treasurer  for  our  concert — the 
proceeds  of  the  two  funds  were  together  invested 
in  an  annuity,  which  provided  our  old  friend  and 
comrade  with  sufficient  means  to  make  him 
comfortable  for  the  remainder  of  his  life. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Voyage  to  New  York — Captain  Cook — Jam  Tarts — Purser  and 
Coal-bunk — Cunard  Courtesy — Divorces  Procured — American 
Generosity — Sail  up  the  Hudson  River — Four  Angels  without 
Wings — Soft  Shell  Crabs  and  Whoffles. 

I  DID  not  improve  in  strength  as  I  had  hoped, 
SO,  by  the  advice  of  my  doctor,  I  resolved  on 
trying  a  short  voyage.  I  thought  it  was  growing 
too  warm  for  the  Mediterranean,  and  after  a  fair 
amount  of  meditation  and  consultation,  I  chose 
a  run  across  to  New  York  and  back,  with  my 
cousin  Henry  Kemble  for  companion.  We  sailed 
from  Liverpool  with  my  old  skipper,  Capt. 
Theodore  Cook,  in  the  Russia^  on  her  penultimate 
round  trip. 

The  Cunard  Company  placed  at  our  disposal 
the  first  steward's  cabin  for  the  outward,  and  the 
second  and  third  engineers'  for  the  return  journey, 
free  of  cost ;  one  of  many  acts  of  generosity 
for  which  I  owe  my  grateful  thanks  to  that 
company. 

Capt.  Cook  I  found  as  alert  and  silent  as  during 
my  first  voyage  to  America  in  1871.  I  believe 
the  only  person  with  whom  he  ever  relaxed  was 
myself.  Each  day  in  good  weather  we  had  a 
walk  and  chat  for  half-an-hour  or  more  before 
dinner,  which  at  that  time  was  served  at  four 
o'clock.  He  told  me  '^  he  was  born  at  the  house 
situated  on  the  lower  corner  of  Charles  Street  and 

147 


148      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

Waterloo  Place,  and  in  his  youth  was  a  regular 
habitue  of  Govent  Garden  and  the  Haymarket 
Theatres,  and  had  seen  all  the  most  noted  actors 
of  the  time  " — early  in  the  nineteenth  century, 
I  should  say.  His  prime  favourite  was  Charles 
Kemble  ;  I  believe  it  was  having  found  I  was 
a  connection  by  marriage  with  the  Kemble 
family  that  caused  him  to  break  through  his  law 
of  silence. 

I  naturally  found  him  genial,  while  the  rest 
of  the  passengers  found  him  glumpy.  He  was 
a  small  man,  and  had  more  the  air  of  a  doctor 
than  a  skipper  ;  in  fact,  the  first  time  I  was 
introduced  to  him,  I  addressed  him  as  doctor, 
for  which  I  immediately  begged  pardon ;  he 
only  smiled,  and  said,  ''  There  was  no  need,  as 
almost  all  his  passengers  on  first  acquaintance 
addressed  him  by  that  title."  Since  1871,  the 
officers,  except  two,  James  Watson,  1st  engineer, 
and  Charles  Dean,  2nd  ofiicer,  had  been  changed. 
The  engineer  has  no  time  for  making  friends 
when  at  sea,  so  we  were  only  on  nodding  terms 
when  we  met  on  rare  occasions. 

At  that  time  the  only  officer  who  had  a  place  in 
the  saloon  was  the  commander,  who  presided 
at  meals.  Each  set  of  officers  had  its  own 
mess ;  the  sailing  officers,  doctor,  and  purser 
being  clubbed  together.  I  did  not  enjoy  meals 
in  the  saloon,  the  heaps  of  roasted,  boiled,  stewed, 
and  fried  varieties  of  meat,  fowl,  and  vegetable, 
and  the  *'  gobbling  '*  of  some  of  the  uneducated 


A   FEAST   FOR  THE   GODS  149 

passengers,  took  away  my  appetite,  so  I  used 
to  avail  myself  of  the  standing  invitation  of 
the  officers  to  make  their  *'  mess  room  *'  my 
*'  restaurant." 

I  ate  my  dinner  in  comfort  and  with  appetite  ; 
it  nearly  always  consisted  of  a  joint  of  meat, 
well-cooked,  with  a  bright  brown  crust  which 
prevented  the  juice  escaping,  and  vegetables, 
followed  by  pie,  pudding,  jam  tarts,  etc.  At 
breakfast  I  was  served  with  anything  I  chose 
to  ask  for ;  I  need  not  have  despaired  of 
partaking  of  "  elephant's  trunk  on  toast," 
such  were  the  resources  of  the  commissariat, 
had  my  gastronomic  proclivities  lain  in  that 
direction. 

One  of  the  dinners  I  retain  in  my  mind's  eye, 
even  now  ;  a  splendid  roast  shoulder  of  mutton, 
a  picture  to  behold,  and  as  tender  as  the  most 
dehcate  lamb  to  masticate,  and  of  a  flavour  to 
satisfy  the  most  exigent  epicure  (I  regret  I  did 
not — perhaps  I  could  not — take  another  slice)  ; 
with  it  we  had  a  ''  peas  pudding  " — ''  a  globe  of 
beauty  and  a  joy  to  memory  dear." 

One  morning  I  turned  in  to  my  ''restaurant" 
and  found  Charley  Dean  seated  at  table,  grumbling 
like  a  bear  with  a  sore  head.  ''  What's  the 
matter,  old  man  ?  "  ''  Oh  nothing  " — with  a 
shrug  of  his  broad  shoulders,  ''  Nothing  !  Why 
you  must  be  dropping  into  Shakespeare  to  make 
so  much  ado  about  nothing  !  "  ''  Look  there  ! 
there's    a    breakfast "    (pointing    to    a    monster 


150      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

rump  steak,  smoking  on  the  board) ;  "  I  hate 
lumps  of  meat,  and  at  this  hour  can't  endure  the 
sight  of  them."  ''Surely  after  four  hours  in  the 
fresh  air  you  must  be  hungry."  ''  I  am,  that's 
where  it  is,  but  I  want  something  I  can  eat ; 
something  more  delicate  than  rump  steak.'' 
*'  Well,  what  would  your  delicate  constitution 
suggest  ?  "  ''  There's  only  one  thing  I  care  to 
eat,  and  I  could  live  on  them."  ''  And  what  may 
'  them  '  be  ? — fried  sweetbreads,  I  suppose  !  " 
'*  Sweetbreads  be,"  etc.,  ''  I  don't  want  any 
butcher's  meat  !  "  *'  Well,  what  on  earth  is 
'  them  '  ?  "  ''  Jam  tarts  !  "  ''  God  bless  my 
soul !  You  don't  mean  to  say  a  man  of  your 
physique  could  do  his  work  on  jam  tarts  ? " 
'*  Yes  I  could,  and  would  if  I  could  get  'em  !  " 

There  is  not  a  doubt  the  generality  of  mankind 
consume  a  great  deal  more  solid  food  than  is 
good  for  them  ;  that  more  people  die  of  ''  stuffing  " 
than  ''  starvation,"  but  that  a  man  of  Charley 
Dean's  Herculean  build  and  able  to  do  the  work 
he  did,  could  exist  long  on  jam  tarts,  seemed 
impossible  to  me. 

Charley  did  not  live  long ;  strong  as  he 
appeared,  he  had  a  weak  spot,  and  he  died  a  very 
few  years  after  that,  the  last  voyage  I  made  in 
his  company.  Capt.  Cook  told  me  he  was  one 
of  the  best  sailors  he  had  ever  met,  indefatigable 
in  his  duty  ;  only  the  incompleteness  of  his 
literary  education  prevented  his  promotion  to 
the  post  of  commander.     We  invariably  associate 


THE   JEST  THAT   FAILED  151 

great  size  with  great  appetite  ;  the  biggest  man 
I  ever  knew  was  a  Benedictine  monk,  he  weighed 
twenty  stone  ;  being  a  monk,  of  course  he  was 
set  down  as  a  prize  trencherman  ;  he  was  one 
of  the  most  abstemious  men  I  have  known.  It 
is  the  long,  lean,  big-boned  ''  son  of  a  gun  "  that 
(as  Aynsley  Cook  used  pithily  to  put  it)  ''  knows 
how  to  lower  the  victuals  on  to  his  chest.'' 

I  did  not  find  the  change  of  ''  purser  "  agree- 
able ;  my  former  acquaintance  was  a  jovial, 
good-natured  specimen,  always  ready  to  attend 
to  the  passengers'  comfort  ;  his  successor  was 
his  antipodes  ;  his  attentions  were  devoted  to 
his  ''  pursing  "  ;  he  tried  to  be  ''  funny,"  but 
like  many  ''funny"  people  I  have  fallen  in  with, 
his  "  fun  "  was  but  ''  feeble  cynicism." 

On  the  outward  voyage,  in  one  of  his  jocular 
moods,  he  bore  down  as  I  was  enjoying  a  quiet 
smoke  on  deck,  and  opened  fire  on  me  : — 

''  When  are  you  going  back  ?  " 

''  When  you  go  back," 

"  How  ?  " 

''  In  this  ship,  with  you." 

**  No,  you  won't." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

''  The  ship's  full  for  the  return  voyage,  every 
berth,  officers'  cabin,  every  nook  was  booked 
long  ago." 

''  Probably,  but  I'm  going  back  with  you  all 
the  same." 


152      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

'*  Ha  !  ha  !  do  you  suppose  they're  going  to 
construct  a  cabin  for  your  accommodation  ?  '' 

'*  Can't  say,  but  I  am  going  back  with  you." 

''  Then  you'll  have  to  make  yourself  comfortable 
in  a  coal  bunk,  which  won't  be  pleasant ;  rather 
stuffy  for  a  day  or  so,  until  they  clear  out  some 
of  the  coal." 

''  It  would  certainly  not  be  pleasant,  but  I  have 
no  intention  of  occupying  a  coal  bunk,  nor  of 
offering  such  accommodation  to  my  companion  !  " 

''  Then  you'll  have  to  wait  for  another  ship, 
and  Lord  knows  when  you'll  find  one  with  a 
vacant  berth ;  not  for  a  couple  of  months  at 
least." 

"  I  was  assured  at  Water  Street  (the  Liverpool 
address  of  the  Cunard  Co.)  that  berths  for  myself 
and  Mr.  Kemble  would  be  reserved  for  the  return 
voyage  of  this  ship ;  so,  as  I  told  you  before,  I  am 
coming  back  with  you,  and  in  a  comfortable 
cabin." 

*'  They  know  nothing  about  it  at  Water  Street, 
and  you'll  find  yourself  mistaken  you'll  see." 

"  We'll  see  !  " 

And  we  did  see  !  Immediately  on  arriving, 
we  went  direct  to  the  Cunard  office,  where  I  was 
received  with  great  politeness.  The  clerk  looked 
over  the  list  of  passengers  and  could  not  find  any 
berths  allotted  to  me.  I  began  to  fear  my  cynical 
friend  would  have  the  laugh  on  his  side,  but  the 
amiable  clerk  bid  me  wait  until  he  consulted 
another  list ;    there,  sure  enough,  he  found  I  was 


AN   "INSTITUTION"  153 

to  have  the  2nd  and  3rd  engineers'  cabin,  for 
which  I  offered  to  pay,  as  every  inch  of  available 
room  had  been  seized  on  long  before.  I  was 
informed  there  was  nothing  to  pay,  by  order  from 
Liverpool. 

Kemble  and  I  went  on  our  w^ay  rejoicing.  I 
pointed  out  one  or  two  features — perhaps  they 
are  called  institutions — which  I  had  noticed 
during  my  first  visit  to  New  York.  The  pave- 
ment, which  seemed  laid  down  expressly  to  trip 
up  pedestrians,  I  called  Kemble's  attention  to 
and  cautioned  him  ;  he  mentioned  that  he  was 
neither  blind  nor  drunk,  and  felt  perfectly  safe  ; 
the  moment  after  he  tripped,  and  ran  the  risk 
of  damaging  his  proboscis,  had  I  not  seized  hold 
of  him  and  so  prevented  a  catastrophe.  Another 
institution  which  I  had  described  to  him,  and 
which  caused  him  to  doubt  my  veracity,  I 
exultingly  called  his  attention  to,  a  black  board 
nailed  on  the  wall  at  the  corner  of  a  street  not 
far  from  the  Battery,  on  which  the  following 
inscription  was  painted  in  large  white  letters  : — 

"Mr. , 

"Attorney. 
"N.B. — Divorces  procured." 

"  Now,  Harry,"  said  I,  "  do  you  still  think  I'm 
another  ?  "  "  No,  that  beats  me  ;  I  will  not 
doubt  your  word  for  the  future,"  was  his  response  ! 
The  moment  I  set  foot  in  the  bureau  of  the 
Hoffman  House,  I  was  hailed  in  a  pleasant  voice 


154      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

with  ''Mr.  Santley,  I  guess  ;  here's  the  number 
of  your  rooms,  they're  three  and  a  half  dollar 
rooms,  but  you'll  pay  two  and  a  half  dollars." 
Agreeably  surprised  at  his  recognizing  me  and  at 
the  reduction  in  the  price  of  the  rooms,  I  tendered 
him  my  cordial  thanks  ;  I  had  not  been  accus- 
tomed to  reduction  of  prices  of  rooms  before, 
on  account  of  my  professional  standing,  and  felt 
gratified  to  find  there  were  people  in  the  world 
ready  to  show  their  appreciation  of  artistic 
merit  in  so  appreciable  a  fashion. 

I  am  reminded  in  relating  this  of  a  similar 
act  of  generosity  of  which  I  was  the  recipient 
during  my  first  visit  to  the  States.  I  was  advised 
by  a  comrade,  to  whom  I  complained  of  the 
difficulty  I  found  in  procuring  good  cigars,  to 
pay  a  visit  to  Messrs.  Park  &  Tilford's  store. 
I  found  some  excellent  ''  smokes,"  for  which  I 
paid  the  current  price  (not  at  all  exorbitant). 
When  I  paid  a  second  visit,  after  taking  my 
order,  the  gentleman  who  was  attending  to  me, 
remarked,  "  I  guess  you  are  Mr.  Santley."  ''  I 
am,"  said  I.  *'  You  paid  nine  dollars  when  you 
purchased  here  before,  you'll  pay  seven  this 
time,"  was  his  pleasant  rejoinder,  and  on  each 
subsequent  purchase  I  was  allowed  a  proportionate 
reduction  on  all  I  bought.  It  is  a  great  pleasure 
to  record  such  acts  of  appreciation  and  considera- 
tion. I  endeavour  to  show  my  appreciation 
and  consideration  of  my  fellow-creatures  with 
whom  I  come  in  contact,  and  consequently  am 


BRITISH   "BANTER"  155 

agreeably  impressed  when  such  acts  are  extended 
to  me. 

The  impression  is  more  vivid  by  reason  of  the 
contrast  I  have  experienced  in  other  lands — 
foreign  to  me — where,  generally,  I  have  been 
subject  to  augmentation  instead  of  diminution 
of  prices  ;  for  which  the  only  reason  I  can  assign 
is,  that  an  artiste  of  fame  is  supposed  to  acquire 
untold  wealth  without  trouble ;  the  labour,  time, 
and  anxiety  attendant  on  his  acquisition  of  that 
fame  counting  as  nothing,  if  it  ever  enters  into 
the  calculation  at  all. 

The  enormous  continent  of  North  America 
abounds  in  picturesque  scenery ;  the  sail  up 
the  Hudson  River  from  New  York  to  Albany 
is  alone  worth  a  voyage  across  the  Atlantic  to 
a  lover  of  the  beauties  of  nature,  who  has  time 
and  money  at  his  disposal.  The  Americans  are 
courteous,  hospitable,  and  in  their  own  peculiar 
style,  witty ;  they  do  not  understand  our 
*'  banter."  During  my  first  American  trip,  when  I 
and  George  Dolby  (Dickens'  agent,  and  mine  for 
some  years,)  were  dining  or  spending  an  evening 
in  pleasant  company,  we  were  wont  to  indulge 
in  a  fair  amount  of  ''  chaff  "  between  ourselves, 
which  surprised  our  friends,  who  unmistakably 
expected  we  should  end  with  a  "boxing  match." 

We  Britishers  are  prone  to  indulge  in  this 
species  of  wit  ;  in  speeches  delivered  at  banquets, 
and  even  on  more  serious  occasions,  it  often  holds 
a  conspicuous  place,  interfering  with  detriment  to 


156      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

the  proceedings.  The  late  American  Ambassador, 
Mr.  Choate,  was  a  real  wit,  he  never  descended 
to  ''  chaff.''  Three  judges  and  James  T.  Fields 
(Dickens'  friend)  spoke  at  a  dinner  at  which 
I  was  present,  given  by  the  Hartford  Musical 
Society  in  Boston  ;  the  judges  kept  the  table 
in  a  roar  of  laughter  with  their  comic  sallies, 
while  J.  T.  Fields  held  the  guests  enchanted  with 
a  stream  of  eloquence,  reminiscent  of  our  Immortal 
Bard's  poetic  wit. 

I  find  nothing  more  irritating  than  being  bound 
to  listen  to  an  individual  who,  believing  himself 
a  wit,  distracts  my  ears  with  inane  ''  play  upon 
words,"  especially  if  he  insists  on  ''  tagging  on  " 
an  explanation  of  his  witticisms.  Oh,  my  Antonio  ! 
(that  is  you)  I  do  know  of  these,  whose  mouths 
I  would  like  to  keep  perpetually  supplied  with 
toffee  or  other  harmless  sticky  substance,  in  order 
that  they  could  not  show  their  teeth  by  way  of 
smile  until  they  made  a  sign  that  they  were 
prepared  to  '*  swear  off  "  their  evil  habit. 

During  this  my  second  visit,  I  sailed  up  the 
Hudson  to  Albany ;  just  before  starting,  four 
'*  gentlemen  "  were  conducted  on  board  decorated 
with  handcuffs,  each  one  in  the  custody  of  a 
police  officer.  When  we  had  proceeded  a  short 
distance  the  decorations  were  removed,  and  the 
"  gentlemen  "  permitted  to  stroll  about  the  deck 
and  hold  conversation  with  those  of  their  fellow 
passengers  who  might  feel  inclined  to  enjoy  their 
society.     When  an  opportunity  occurred,  I  asked 


QUEER   SPECIMENS  157 

one  of  the  custodians  where  their  proteges  were 
bound  for,  and  what  they  had  done  to  merit 
such  attention.  I  learned  that  one  was  a 
designer  and  manufacturer  of  false  bank-notes ; 
another  had  been  a  distiller  of  whiskey  without 
authority  from  the  Excise  department ;  the 
other  two  had  done  something  contrary  to  the 
laws  of  the  land,  but  I  do  not  remember  the 
nature  of  their  achievements. 

Later  on  I  got  into  conversation  with  the 
gentleman  who  supplied  surreptitious  additions 
to  the  riches  of  the  Mint.  He  was  attired  in  a 
well-worn  overcoat,  with  velvet  collar  a  trifle 
greasy  at  the  back,  probably  the  effect  of  the 
bear's  grease  with  which  his  hair  had  been 
anointed  at  Washington,  from  whence  he  was 
being  transferred  to  Albany,  to  revel  in  the 
stricter  supervision  which  prevailed  there.  His 
head  was  protected  by  a  cap  much  the  worse  for 
wear  ;  his  feet  were  encased  in  old  carpet  slippers, 
and  he  wore  green  spectacles  which  prevented 
any  curious  person  from  discovering  where  his 
gaze  was  directed. 

I  was  surprised  that  he  was  entirely  innocent 
of  the  crime  of  which  he  stood  accused,  or  indeed 
of  any  crime,  he  had  led  the  life  of  an  angel, 
according  to  his  own  account ;  but  though  I 
examined  his  shoulders  minutely — on  the  sly — 
I  did  not  discover  any  indication  of  wings 
sprouting.  The  whiskey  distiller,  with  whom 
I    afterwards   conversed,   according   to   his   own 


158      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

statement,  had  led  the  purest  of  Hves,  and  the 

cause  of  his  incarceration  was  simply   a  d d 

conspiracy  organized  by  some  ruffians  jealous 
of  his  success  in  business. 

I  felt  sure  that  the  other  two  had  been  the 
victims  of  error,  so  I  did  not  trouble  them  with 
any  enquiries. 

After  the  passengers  had  dined,  the  four 
''  angels  "  and  their  guardians  were  shown  into 
the  saloon  and  regaled  with  a  similar  feast  to  that 
we  had  partaken  of.  On  our  arrival  at  Albany, 
I  noticed  two  two-horsed  open  carriages  waiting 
on  the  pier  ;  I  presumed  for  some  passengers 
of  consequence.  The  '*  angels  "  were  requested 
to  submit  to  the  operation  of  readjusting  their 
decorations,  and  to  my  great  amusement  were 
conducted  on  shore  by  the  officers,  collocated  in 
the  carriages,  and  driven  off  to  their  destination. 

From  Albany  we  went  on  to  Niagara  Falls, 
stopping  for  a  few  hours  at  Buffalo,  where  I  had 
a  little  business  to  transact.  We  took  rooms 
at  the  hotel  on  the  Canadian  side,  where  we  had 
a  fine  view  of  the  Falls  by  moonlight ;  the  effect 
of  the  light  on  the  vapour  rising  from  the  basin 
below  I  found  extremely  beautiful.  On  the 
whole,  however,  I  prefer  the  view  of  the  Falls 
in  winter,  as  I  had  seen  it  before  ;  the  absence 
of  the  picturesque  is  not  nearly  so  striking  when 
the  surroundings  are  clothed  in  snow  and  ice. 

We  returned  to  New  York  two  days  before 
our  ship  sailed ;    the  heat  was  most  oppressive. 


THE   JESTER  SILENCED  159 

I  revel  in  the  heat  of  the  sun,  but  I  found  the  heat 
in  New  York  too  moist  to  be  pleasant ;  in  the 
night  I  was  tormented  by  mosquitos,  and  in  the 
day  I  had  to  endure  a  still  greater  torment — trying 
to  elude  the  grasp  of  an  inquisitor  bent  on  prying 
into  my  private  concerns,  in  order  to  dish  up  an 
''  interview "  for  the  journal  of  which  he  was 
a  correspondent. 

By  dint  of  bribery  and  whatever  ''  sharpness  *' 
I  possess,  I  succeeded,  until  he  seized  on  me  as  I 
was  quietly  walking  up  stairs  to  bed.  He  was 
like  a  leech,  I  could  not  get  rid  of  him,  I  had 
to  submit  to  his  cross-questioning;  I  replied  with 
any  nonsense  that  came  into  my  head.  The 
next  morning  the  secretary  of  the  hotel  handed 
me  a  paper  where  I  found  my  "  rigmarole  "  in 
print ;  I  hope  mankind  profited  by  it  !  I  did  ! 
for  it  taught  me  a  lesson,  by  failure,  how  to  keep 
interloping  inquisitors  at  bay. 

I  was  no  sooner  on  board  ship  than  I  encountered 
my  cynical  friend,  who  evidently  intended  to 
keep  up  the  joke. 

**  So  you're  here,  eh  ? ''  he  began. 

"  Here  I  am  !  " 

*'  Got  a  coal  bunk  ?  "  (he  had  not  examined 
the  list  of  passengers). 

''  No,  2nd  and  3rd  engineers*  cabin  !  *' 

*'  Cost  you  a  trifle,  eh  ?  '' 

**  Nothing  ;   couldn't  be  less,  eh  ?  " 

"  Hum  !  " 

''  Ha  !  " 


160      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

He  was  a  crusty  beggar,  but  he  had  some 
crumb  underneath,  perhaps  he  had  been  crossed 
in  love ;  or  worse,  possessed  that  priceless 
blessing,  a  Tartar  of  a  wife.  I  presented  him 
with  an  air-tight  oak  cigar  box  to  preserve  his 
*'  weeds  "  from  the  sea  air,  which  brought  the 
crumb  to  the  surface.  We  encountered  dense 
fog  for  five  days  out  of  the  ten  occupied  in  the 
voyage  home  ;  one  day  I  noticed  that  the  fog 
lifted  for  a  short  time  at  long  intervals  ;  three 
times  we  were  making  straight  for  a  sailing  ship  ; 
fortunately  at  sufficient  distance  to  give  us  time 
to  clear  out  of  the  way. 

While  at  New  York  I  had  scraped  acquaintance 
with  soft-shell  crabs,  which  I  found  delicious  and 
digestible ;  also  with  whoffles,  hot,  soaked  in 
butter,  and  covered  thickly  with  powdered  white 
sugar  (according  to  the  waiter's  declaration, 
preferable  to  syrup  or  molasses) ;  also  delicious 
to  the  palate,  but  fatal  to  digestion ;  they 
remained  on  my  chest  like  lead  for  some  time, 
so  I  swore  off ! 


CHAPTER  XV 

Home,  Sweet  Home — Sketching — The  School  of  Art — An 
Obstinate  Nose — Drooping  Spirits — The  Bay  of  Biscay — An 
Unsuccessful  Exhibitor. 

I  WAS  not  sorry  to  be  back  on  my  ''  native 
heath/'  and  enjoy  a  Httle  quiet.  Liverpool 
appeared  hke  a  haven  of  rest  after  the  noise 
of  New  York ;  and  the  heat,  '*  tempered  to 
the  shorn  lamb/'  was  especially  grateful.  I 
was  delighted  to  see  the  hedgerows  and  neat 
farm-houses  and  cottages  on  the  journey  up  to 
town. 

The  season  was  just  terminating,  and  I 
immediately  set  about  preparing  for  a  fine  tour 
in  the  North  of  Italy  with  my  wife,  four  children, 
my  elder  sister,  and  Harry  Kemble.  We  went 
direct  to  Lucerne,  where  we  remained  a  few  days, 
then  on  to  Berne  for  a  night ;  to  Bex,  where  we 
spent  a  night  at  a  fine  hotel,  recently  built — the 
cheapest  stay  I  ever  made  anywhere.  The 
accommodation  was  excellent,  the  culinary  and 
cellar  departments  the  same,  and  the  bill 
(including  upwards  of  20  francs  for  washing) 
amounted  to  less  than  five  pounds. 

We  then  spent  a  night  at  a  small  place,  St. 
Maurice,  in  order  to  secure  a  carriage  to  convey 
us  over  the  Simplon  to  the  Lago  Maggiore  ;  where, 
at  Baveno,  we  stayed  two  or  three  weeks  ;  thence 
we  went  to  Milan,  where  we  remained  for  a  few 
days  ;  then  set  our  faces  towards  home,  returning 

161 

ri— (2286) 


162      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

by  the  St.  Gothard  to  my  old  favourite,  Brunnen  ; 
from  there  to  Lucerne  we  took  a  long  route  via 
the  Furca,  Grimsel,  Meyringen,  Grindelwald, 
Giessbach,  and  Briinig  pass.  From  Lucerne  we 
returned  to  London  via  Paris ;  we  had  some 
''  good  times/'  enjoyed  ourselves  thoroughly,  and 
arrived  at  home  ready  for  work. 

Having  seceded  from  the  Opera,  and  finding 
little  employment  during  the  London  season, 
I  began  to  ruminate  on  the  amount  of  time  I 
was  wasting  which  I  might  turn  to  account  to  my 
advantage  financially  or  artistically,  or  perhaps 
both. 

As  I  was  fully  occupied  throughout  the  winter 
and  spring  seasons  with  music,  I  thought  a  little 
change  of  occupation  would  be  pleasant,  and 
having  attained  some  proficiency  in  drawing  in 
pencil  and  colours  at  school,  I  determined  to  try 
my  hand  at  sketching ;  if  I  did  not  arrive  at 
increasing  my  income  by  it,  I  might  at  least  adorn 
the  interior  of  my  palatial  residence  with  my 
efforts. 

I  furnished  myself  with  pencils  and  colours,  and 
while  at  Baveno  I  executed  my  first  attempt  at 
reproducing  nature  ;  I  say  executed  advisedly,  as 
my  attempt  ended  in  a  result  different  from  that  I 
intended  to  produce.  It  was  in  what  I  can  only 
describe  as  the  Chinese  willow-pattern  style.  My 
subject  was  the  garden  at  the  back  of  the  hotel ; 
a  juvenile  hill  covered,  excepting  two  or  three 
smaU  grass  plots,  with  trees  of  various  species  ; 


A   NEW   DEPARTURE  163 

crowned  by  a  picturesque  out-house  built  of  rough 
stone  and  covered  with  a  red-tile  roof. 

On  my  return  to  London,  I  executed,  in  the 
above  style,  a  replica  in  oil.  I  was  not  in  love  with 
my  ''  work  of  art  "  ;  the  small-leafed  trees  looked 
rather  like  overgrow^n  cabbages,  and  the  large- 
leafed  ones  were  decidedly  ''  willow-patterny  "  ; 
the  colouring  suggested  a  neophyte  attempt  at 
house-painting  on  a  diminutive  scale. 

Notwithstanding  these  defects,  which  I  plainly 
observed,  while  I  had  not  an  idea  how  to  remedy 
them,  I  had  the  courage  to  show  my  *'  execution  " 
to  my  neighbour,  Stacey  Marks.  Contrary  to  my 
expectation,  he  did  not  laugh ;  he  certainly  smiled, 
and  suggested  that  perhaps  a  pigtail  or  two  might 
add  interest  to  the  subject,  in  which,  without 
dropping  a  tear,  I  concurred.  He  did  say — prob- 
ably out  of  good  nature — that  there  was  sufficient 
evidence  of  latent  talent  to  warrant  me  in  expending 
a  little  time  and  money  on  instruction  in  the 
handling  of  pencil  and  brush,  and  mentioned  his  old 
friend,  Fred  Smallfield,  as  a  competent  instructor. 

I  called  immediately  on  Fred,  and  instead  of  an 
old,  I  found  a  lively  young-looking  gentleman, 
although  his  hair  was  turning  slightly  grey. 
Whatever  he  might  have  been  in  years,  he  was 
very  young  in  his  movements  and  very  attentive  ; 
we  got  on  well  together.  I  spent  many  happy 
hours  in  his  studio.  Two  of  my  daughters  were 
at  that  time  students  at  one  of  the  art  academies, 
where  they  had  among  a  crowd  of  pupils,  Dorothy 


164      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

Tennant,  who  afterwards  married  Henry  Stanley, 
the  African  explorer  ;  a  daughter  of  Prof.  Huxley  ; 
Henry  Tuke  ;  Tom  Gotch  ;  Billy  Strang  ;  and 
Joe  Clarke^  who,  when  there  was  a  plethora  of 
students,  used  to  act  as  fourth  master. 

When  I  thought  I  had  made  fair  progress  in 
laying  on  colour,  I  joined  the  art  school  to  study 
drawing  from  objects.  My  age  and  professional 
reputation  had  a  bad  influence  on  my  masters  ; 
they  seemed  afraid,  not  of  my  genius,  but  of  my 
age  and  public  position,  which  seriously  interfered 
with  their  instructions  and  my  progress.  I  had 
constantly  to  remind  them  that  I  came  there  to 
be  taught,  and  looked  to  receiving  my  due  in 
return  for  my  money. 

About  an  hour  after  I  started  work  one  morn- 
ing— on  a  cast  of  *'  Night,"  I  believe — Master 
No.  2,  looking  over  my  work,  remarked  :  ''I  must 
congratulate  you,  you  have  made  a  leap,  this  is  a 
wonderful  improvement  on  all  you  have  hitherto 
done.  There  is,  however,  one  little  defect ;  the 
nose  is  not  right.  May  I  point  out  the  defect  ?  " 
I  gave  him  a  reminder  about  my  object  in  attend- 
ing the  school,  and  paying  for  instruction.  He 
rubbed  out  my  nose  and  replaced  it  with  his, 
and  after  again  complimenting  me,  walked  off. 
Shortly  after,  No.  3  came  up,  and  went  through 
the  same  scene,  with  the  same  result,  compliments, 
etc.,  etc. 

The  next  visit  I  received  was  from  No.  1, 
the     headmaster.      He,    too,    paid    me     similar 


ART  CRITICISM  165 

compliments  to  what  I  had  before  received,  only 
they  were  far  more  warmly  expressed.  I  was,  of 
course,  delighted  that  I  had  at  least  screwed  out  a 
little  approbation  from  my  teachers. 

The  same  process  was  gone  through,  the  nose 
altered  for  the  third  time,  and  I  was  calmly  won- 
dering whose  was  the  right  one,  when  Joe  Clarke 
came  behind  me,  and  roused  me  from  my  reverie 
with  a  perfect  halloo  of  delight.  He  praised  my 
work  in  unmeasured  terms,  not  only  as  an  improve- 
ment on  former  work,  but  as  a  good  specimen  of 
any  work — but  ! — Gracious  goodness  !  what's 
wrong  now  ?  Perhaps  my  mouth  is  awry,  or  an 
ear  too  long,  or  some  other  feature  distorted  ! — 
my  model  only  possessed  a  head.  But  no  !  it  was 
that  unfortunate  nose  again.  This  trouble  with 
my  nose  caused  me  to  reflect  on  the  possible 
variety  of  shape  my  own  nose  would  take  in  the 
eyes  of  individuals  who  cared  to  examine  it. 

The  nose  was  again  obliterated  and  another 
substituted.  I  tried  to  think  out,  but  I  could  not 
find  out,  which  was  the  right  nose.  So  at  last,  to 
save  further  trouble,  I  rubbed  Joe's  nose  out,  and 
reinstated  the  one  I  drew  myself,  the  lines  of  which 
were  still  traceable.  Further  examinations  of 
''  Night  "  did  not  call  forth  any  hostile  remarks  ; 
everybody  seem.ed  satisfied,  and  having,  after  all, 
succeeded  in  getting  my  own  way,  I  was  satisfied 
too  ! 

In  1879,  in  company  with  Charles  Lyall,  I  went 
to  Italy,  where  we  broke  new  ground.     Instead  of 


166      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

the  lakes  we  went  to  Monticello  in  ''  the  Brianza/* 
a  region  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountains  border- 
ing the  south  side  of  the  Lake  of  Como,  and  its 
branch,  the  Lake  of  Lecco.  We  were  both  amply 
supplied  with  materials  for  sketching.  There  was 
an  unlimited  number  of  subjects  to  exercise 
upon.  My  great  object  being  to  try  to  do  away 
with  the  cabbage  solidity  of  my  trees,  I  devoted 
myself  almost  entirely  to  the  cultivation  of  their 
acquaintance. 

One  of  my  great  efforts  was  a  water-colour 
sketch  of  a  great  magnolia  tree,  which  I  took 
from  the  drawing-room  window  of  the  hotel.  I 
fancy  it  was  a  difficult  subject  at  close  quarters, 
as  I  was  placed.  My  sketch  certainly  looked 
much  less  like  a  giant  cabbage  than  my  other 
productions.  I  felt  a  slight  touch  of  content 
mingled  with  pride  at  this  success  ;  also  at  having, 
as  I  imagined,  made  a  successful  stroke  in  de- 
lineating a  gravel  walk  which  led  under  the  shade 
of  the  trees  to  an  iron  gate  opening  in  the  fields 
beyond,  whence  the  rays  of  the  sun  penetrated  a 
short  distance  up  the  walk. 

The  head  waiter  popped  in  to  see  how  I  was 
getting  on.  I  felt  greatly  pleased  when  he 
expressed  his  admiration  of  my  arboreal  perform- 
ance, but  when  he  asked  me  what  my  gravel  walk 
represented,  my  spirits  dropped  to  zero,  and  I  felt 
inclined  for  half-an-hour  or  so  to  give  up  sketching. 
I  did  not,  Dicky  Sam  prevailed,  and  I  plodded 
on  the  even  tenor  of  my  way,  if  not  rejoicing,  at 


"IN   THE   BAY   OF   BISCAY,   O"     167 

least  amusing  myself,  and  doing  no  harm  to  my 
fellow  creatures. 

The  two  following  years  I  spent  my  holiday 
again  at  Monticello,  accompanied  by  my  wife  and 
children  ;  the  second  year,  with  the  addition  of 
Henry  Tuke.  Both  years  I  went  by  sea  from 
Liverpool  to  Genoa — the  first  with  two  of  my 
daughters,  who  reported  so  favourably  of  the 
delightful  voyage,  that  the  second  year  all  the 
rest  decided  to  go  by  sea.  This  time  we  were  not 
so  fortunate.  The  Bay  of  Biscay  was  up  to  most 
terrible  pranks  ;  all  my  people  suffered  from  sea 
sickness,  my  second  daughter  so  badly,  I  thought 
she  would  die. 

I  became  so  alarmed  that  I  offered  the  captain 
whatever  sum  he  might  name  to  land  us, if  possible, 
at  any  port.  He  told  me  it  would  cost  £500. 
That  being  out  of  the  question,  I  accepted  his 
offer  of  an  empty  cabin  for  my  daughter's  accom- 
modation. I  carried  her  across  to  it — no  easy 
matter  in  such  a  sea — and  sat  up  with  her  through 
the  night ;  or  rather  I  sat  up  except  when  an 
extra  bang  of  a  wave  sent  me  sprawling  on  the 
floor.  The  poor  girl  suffered  so  terribly  I  feared 
every  moment  she  would  burst  a  blood-vessel.  I 
set  my  wits  to  work,  and  having  procured  some 
ginger  ale  and  brandy,  I  made  a  mixture  of  a 
portion  of  each,  of  which  I  administered  a  tea- 
spoonful  at  intervals.  After  repeating  it  a  few 
times,  to  my  great  relief  I  saw  her  revive,  and  by 
mid-day  she  was  perfectly  restored,  and  as  we  were 


168      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

in  smoother  water  in  the  evening,  we  celebrated 
her  recovery  with  a  dance  on  deck. 

I  dabbled  on  with  my  sketching.  On  our 
return  I  reproduced  some  of  my  ''  works ''  in  oil. 
One  of  them,  a  little  sketch  of  Monte  Rosa,  I  sent 
to  an  exhibition  of  works  of  art  executed  by 
dramatic  and  lyric  artistes.  (I  continue  to  spell 
the  word  so,  as  artist  is,  in  England,  universally 
understood  to  signify  painter.)  My  specimen  was 
not  sufficiently  attractive  to  engage  the  attention 
of  a  bidder,  so,  at  his  request,  I  presented  it  to 
Harry  Kemble. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Sketching  Abandoned  for  Music — Geo.  Macfarren  my  Master — 
A  Doctor  of  Music — Music  Defined — Composition — Trials — 
Marriages — Effects  of  a  False  Report — Voyage  to  Malta — A 
Persuasive  Admirer — A  Friendly  Guide — A  Sermon  in  Arabic 
— The  Capuchin  Monastery — British  Misplaced  Generosity. 

After  that  I  gave  up  painting  for  two  reasons. 
It  occupied  more  time  than  I  deemed  I  could 
conscientiously  devote  to  it,  and  the  smell  of  the 
paint,  shut  up  as  I  was  in  a  close  room,  had  a  bad 
effect  on  my  health,  or  I  believed  it  had.  I  could 
never  hope  to  become  a  ''  painter.''  I  turned  the 
matter  of  employing  my  time  to  some  useful 
purpose  over  in  my  mind,  and  at  last  concluded, 
as  I  ought  to  have  done  at  first,  that  my  proper 
course  was  to  direct  my  attention  to  the  study  of 
harmony  and  composition. 

I  talked  the  subject  over  with  George  Macfarren. 
He  agreed  that  it  was  my  duty  to  do  my  best  to 
acquire  proficiency,  as  far  as  lay  in  my  power,  in 
every  branch  of  my  profession,  and  in  return  for 
some  favours  he  imagined  I  had  shown  him,  under- 
took the  office  of  my  preceptor,  for  which  he 
refused  to  accept  any  pecuniary  reward.  I  began 
my  studies  with  his  own  treatise.  I  am  sure  he 
over-rated  my  abilities,  though  he  expressed 
himself  satisfied  with  my  progress,  for  I  always 
felt  I  was  not  doing  him  justice  as  a  teacher.  My 
aim     was    to    crown     his    figured    basses    with 

169 


170      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

something  approaching  a  melody,  in  which  I 
rarely  succeeded. 

As  we  were  on  very  intimate  terms  and  I  could 
speak  freely,  I  told  him  one  day  that  I  thought  it 
was  a  pity  he  had  not  arranged  his  exercises  in 
such  a  way  as  to  give  the  student  an  opportunity 
for  displaying  a  little  ingenuity  in  topping  them 
with  a  melodious  subject.  He  replied  that  he  had 
contrived  them  purposely  in  order  that  the  pupil 
might  have  no  inducement  to  substitute  guess- 
work for  knowledge.  I  demurred  at  the  time, 
and  still  am  of  opinion  that  it  would  be  better  to 
cultivate  the  fancy  of  the  student  in  spite  of  the 
risk  of  his  being  induced  to  indulge  in  guesswork. 

In  confirmation  of  the  justness  of  my  opinion, 
I  might  mention  that  I  enquired  of  Henry  Leslie, 
who  was  one  of  the  examiners  at  Oxford,  ''  what 
was  necessary  to  obtain  the  degree  of  Doctor  of 
Music  ?  " — merely  out  of  curiosity,  as  I  had  not 
the  slightest  intention  of  going  in  for  the  doctorate. 
He  explained  to  me  the  nature  of  the  compositions 
exacted,  on  the  correctness  of  which  judgment 
depended.  I  remarked,  ''  That  the  ears  of  the 
examiners  must  tingle  occasionally  when  they 
heard  said  compositions  performed,  if  they  bore 
any  resemblance  to  some  I  had  been  obliged  to 
perform  in.''  ''  Oh,"  he  replied  gaily,  ''  we  never 
hear  them  ;  we  only  judge  by  what  we  see  on 
paper."  What  may  be  perfectly  correct  on  paper 
may  prove  cacophony  to  the  musical  ear.  Music 
is  not   a  conglomerate  mass   of  notes,  however 


STUDIES   IN   COMPOSING  171 

skilfully  they  may  be  cemented  together.  It  is 
the  outpouring  of  a  musical  soul  expressed  in 
melody,  sustained  by  appropriate  harmony  ;  such 
as  we  find  in  the  immortal  works  of  ''  the  great 
masters  "  who  are  gone  ;  and  as  we  do  not  find 
in  the  still-born  offspring  of  their  living  unworthy 
successors. 

Macfarren  afterwards  told  me  at  one  lesson, 
when  he  was  particularly  pleased  with  the  way  I 
had  worked  out  a  rather  difficult  exercise,  that  I 
was  the  only  pupil  he  had  ever  had  who  succeeded 
in  making  one  of  his  exercises  interesting.  I  was 
very  sorry  to  leave  him  ;  it  was  necessity  alone 
which  compelled  me.  Being  a  very  indifferent 
performer  on  the  piano,  and  nervous  withal,  I 
could  not  play  correctly  what  I  had  written,  and 
he  could  not  read  my  exercises  because  of  his 
misfortune.  So  he  advised  me  to  continue  my 
studies  with  his  son-in-law,  Frank  Devonport,  an 
excellent  master,  with  whom  I  worked  at  counter- 
point until  I  felt  capable  of  writing  some  simple 
Masses  and  other  music  for  the  Church  of  my 
forefathers — into  which  I  was  received  on  the 
26th  June,  1880,  by  the  Rev.  Vincent  Grogan, 
Rector  of  St.  Joseph's  Retreat,  Highgate, — besides 
some  songs  and  two  madrigals. 

I  beg  to  state  that  I  do  not  call  myself  a  ''  com- 
poser," any  more  than  I  call  every  person  who 
sings,  a  '*  singer.*' 

The  interval  between  1880  and  1889,  a  period 
of  severe  trial,   the  result   of  domestic  troubles 


172      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

of  no  ordinary  nature,  I  pass  over,  except  to 
record  the  death  of  my  wife,  2nd  September,  1882, 
whilst  I  was  singing  in  the  repetition  of  Gounod's 
*'  Redemption,"  at  the  Birmingham  Festival,  and 
a  severe  illness,  which  was  the  indirect  cause 
of  my  going  to  Australia.  In  1884  my  eldest 
daughter,  who  had  been  for  about  two  years  a  very 
successful  singer  in  concerts  of  the  higher  class, 
was  married  to  the  Hon.  Robert  H.  Lyttelton. 
In  1885  my  second  daughter  was  married  to  a 
young  American,  Henry  E.  Meiggs.  My  holidays, 
which  I  can  only  call  such,  as  I  did  no  work,  I 
spent  at  a  farm  in  the  North  of  Germany,  between 
Hamburgh  and  Lubeck.  One  year  I  returned  to 
my  old  haunts  about  the  lakes  in  the  North  of 
Italy  ;  one  week  of  the  time  I  stayed  with  Piatti 
at  his  villa  at  Cadenabbia  on  the  Lake  of  Como. 

Immediately  after  the  Easter  of  1888  I  was 
confined  to  my  bed  with  a  serious  attack  of  blood 
poisoning.  For  two  days  I  remained  in  a  high 
state  of  fever,  and  delirious.  My  doctor  grew 
alarmed  and  threatened  to  resort  to  very  strong 
measures.  He  called  very  early  on  the  third  day, 
when,  to  his  great  surprise  and  joy,  he  found  my 
temperature  had  fallen  to  its  normal  height ;  he 
described  the  change  as  miraculous  ! 

A  short  article  had  appeared  in  the  Evening 
Star,  in  which  it  was  stated  that  since  I  had 
entered  the  Catholic  Church,  I  had  every  Sunday 
and  in  all  weathers  attended  at  High  Mass  at 
St.  Joseph's,  Highgate,  to  assist  in  the  choir,  and 


A   FALSE   REPORT  173 

had  often  been  seen  to  place  a  cheque  for  £1,000 
(God  save  the  mark  !)  in  the  offertory  plate. 
While  I  was  still  confined  to  my  bed,  the  Rector  of 
St.  Joseph's  (not  my  friend,  the  Rev.  V.  Grogan) 
rushed  down  to  see  me,  and  begged  me  to  write  to 
the  editor  of  the  Star  contradicting  the  false 
report  of  my  beneficence,  which  would  materially 
interfere  with  the  endeavours  he  was  making  at 
the  time  to  raise  funds  to  build  a  new  and  more 
commodious  church. 

I  assured  him  the  report  would  not  influence 
subscribers  in  the  slightest  degree,  adding  that  I 
alone  should  be  the  sufferer,  as  it  was  sure  to  call 
forth  innumerable  applications  for  assistance  from 
such  a  well-furnished  purse.  I  was  able  to  give 
him  ample  ''  proof  of  the  pudding  in  the  eating.'' 
I  was  assailed  from  all  quarters  of  the  British  Isles 
for  pecuniary  assistance  on  very  amusing  pleas. 

The  most  comic  was  that  of  an  individual,  who 
stated  that  he  was  employed  in  the  City  at  a  very 
good  salary,  that  he  found  a  banking  account  in 
the  City  inconvenient,  therefore  wished  to  open 
one  in  the  place  in  which  he  resided,  somewhere 
up  the  river,  to  accomplish  which  it  was  necessary 
he  should  deposit  £50  with  the  bank  he  was  in 
treaty  with.  Being,  as  he  was  assured,  a  benevo- 
lent person,  would  I  provide  him  with  the  £50  ? 
The  novelty  of  the  request  amused  me,  but  failed 
to  move  me. 

A  lady  in  Scotland,  who  wished  to  establish  a 
small-ware  business,  demanded  £30.     Neither  of 


174      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

these  requests  was  made  as  a  loan,  but  a  gift. 
They  were,  perhaps,  more  honest,  but  I  did  not  lind 
them,  therefore,  more  attractive.  I  made  a  bundle 
of  the  applications  I  received — not  by  any  means  a 
small  one — which  I  presented  to  the  rector  at  the 
first  visit  I  was  able  to  pay  him.  The  subscriptions 
rolled  in,  the  church  was  built ;  he  ate  his  pudding 
while  I  was  left  out  in  the  cold. 

When  I  had  sufficiently  recovered  to  leave  home, 
my  doctor  insisted  on  change  of  air  to  set  me  up 
completely  before  I  undertook  any  work.  He 
suggested  a  month  at  Tunbridge  Wells,  which  no 
doubt  would  have  proved  highly  beneficial ;  that 
is,  if  I  could  have  remained  in  peace,  which,  being 
within  call,  I  should  have  found  impossible.  I 
suggested  a  sea- voyage,  which  he  said  he  himself 
would  have  suggested  had  he  been  aware  I  was 
what  is  called  a  *'  good  sailor,"  as  the  most 
appropriate  change  in  my  state  of  health  at 
that  time. 

I  accordingly  took  passage  in  the  P.  &  O. 
R.M.S.  Victoria  to  Malta.  I  enjoyed  ten  days  of 
delightful  weather ;  the  Bay  was  as  smooth  as  a 
mill-pond.  On  board  there  were  some  very 
pleasant  Australians  returning  home.  I  did  not 
mingle  much  with  the  passengers,  as  I  knew  what 
the  consequence  would  be  if  I  did  :  the  inevitable 
request  to  entertain  them.  Hints  were  thrown 
out  occasionally  which  I  did  not  choose  to  hear. 

A  day  or  two  before  the  end  of  my  voyage,  I  was 
politely  accosted  by  an  Australian  lady,  who  tried 


VOYAGE  TO   MALTA  175 

her  arts  of  persuasion,  but  I  steadfastly  refused, 
having  the  excuse  to  back  me,  that  I  was  ordered 
by  my  doctor  to  abstain  from  singing,  even  for 
my  own  practice  or  amusement.  Though  not 
satisfied,  she  had  to  content  herself,  as  I  insisted 
on  carrying  out  my  instructions  to  the  letter.  She 
then  expressed  a  hope  that  one  day  I  might  be 
tempted  to  pay  a  visit  to  Australia  ''  as,"  she 
assured  me,  ''  I  had  a  host  of  friends  there  desirous 
of  hearing  me,  and  I  should  be  sure  to  reap  a 
golden  harvest  "  ;  all  of  which  at  the  time  did 
not  impress  me  beyond  affording  me  the  pleasure 
of  knowing  I  held  a  place  in  the  esteem  of  the 
inhabitants  of  a  continent  so  far  aw^ay  from  my 
native  country. 

When  I  landed  at  Valetta,  my  first  impression 
was  that  the  adult  female  portion  of  the  in- 
habitants were  all  nuns  of  an  order  with  which  I 
was  not  acquainted.  I  mentioned  this  to  my 
companions,  the  doctor  and  the  purser  of  the  ship. 
The  former — who  had  the  customary  mariner's 
aversion  to  the  religious  vocation — confided  to  me 
that  the  garb,  which  I  had  taken  for  a  nun's 
habit,  was  that  adopted  by  the  entire  adult  female 
population,  but  he  added  emphatically,  ''  There's 

heaps  of  priests  and  nuns,  and  a  d d  sight  too 

much    praying  in    the place   to    find    any 

good  in  it,"  etc.,  etc.  {vide  nautical  vocabulary). 

The  day  after  my  arrival,  I  received  a  pleasant 
and  quite  unexpected  visit,  as  I  was  not  aware  I 
had  an  acquaintance  on  the  island.     (By  way  of 


176      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

parenthesis,  I  may  say  that  I  cannot  call  to  mind 
a  single  instance  of  visiting  a  place,  new  to  me, 
however  remote  from  my  native  country,  or  even 
one  of  whose  existence  I  was  not  aware,  without 
meeting  somebody  I  was  acquainted  with  or  had 
met  before.) 

My  visitor,  George  Buchanan  by  name,  was  a 
cousin  of  John  Boosey.  I  had  met  him  at  John's 
house  on  many  occasions.  He  immediately  con- 
stituted himself  my  guide  and  preceptor,  pointing 
out  all  that  was  interesting.  He  conducted 
me  to  Civita  Vecchia,  where  we  visited  the  cata- 
combs and  the  small  chapel  erected  on  the  spot 
where  St.  Paul  dwelt  after  his  shipwreck  on  the 
coast  of  Malta.  He  also  introduced  me  to  Major 
Plunkett,  of  the  Engineers,  then  in  charge  of 
Fort  St.  Angelo,  a  most  charming,  clever  man, 
who  after  dinner  one  evening  entertained  me  with 
such  a  vivid  description  of  Cairo,  the  Nile,  and  the 
ruins  of  the  ancient  temples  erected  on  its  banks, 
as  to  inspire  me  to  make  a  determined  effort  to  go 
and  see  for  myself. 

One  hot  afternoon,  as  I  was  returning  from  a 
long  walk,  I  entered  a  church  with  the  two-fold 
intention  of  taking  a  rest  and  saying  my  prayers. 
There  were  few  other  visitors  present,  but  in  a 
short  time  a  stream  of  worshippers  poured  in, 
until  at  last  I  found  myself  in  a  dense  crowd  from 
which  there  was  no  means  of  extricating  myself 
unless  I  chose  to  walk  over  the  people's  heads. 
A  priest  ascended  a  platform  erected  in  front  of  the 


A  SERMON   IN   ARABIC  177 

altar  and  intoned  a  *'  Litany  " — as  I  supposed — 
the  people  all  joining  in  after  the  first  verses. 

I  sat  patiently  expecting  the  service,  whatever 
it  might  be  (it  was  in  Arabic,  a  language  I  have 
no  acquaintance  with),  would  be  of  short  duration. 
The  singing  ended,  the  priest  seated  himself  at  a 
table  covered  with  a  green  baize  cloth.  He  began 
a  discourse  and  I  began  to  feel  uncomfortable. 
To  be  brief,  he  continued  for  one  hour  and 
three-quarters,  then  came  to  a  pause. 

A  discourse  of  that  length,  of  which  I  could  not 
understand  a  single  word,  made  me  almost  des- 
perate. ''  I  screwed  my  courage  to  the  sticking 
point,"  and  heedless  for  once  of  the  discomfort  I 
caused  my  neighbour,  I  made  a  bolt  from  the 
church  into  the  fresh  air,  whose  reviving  influence 
soon  restored  my  equanimity.  I  paid  a  visit  to 
the  Capuchin  Monastery  where  they  kept  the 
embalmed  bodies  of  defunct  monks  in  the  crypt. 

Having  heard  much  about  the  *'  dreadful 
sight,"  I  was  curious  to  try  what  effect  it  would 
have  on  me.  I  had  an  excellent  opportunity,  for 
just  as  I  had  descended,  the  lay  brother  in  attend- 
ance was  called  away.  Off  he  went,  first  giving 
me  his  candle — there  was  no  other  illumination — 
leaving  me  alone  with  the  remains  of  the  blest 
departed.  They  were  placed  standing  each  in  a 
separate  cell  all  round  the  vault  ;  about  thirty,  I 
should  say.  They  looked  so  like  living  beings — 
except  a  few  whose  jaws  time  had  deprived  of 
their    covering — that    I    felt    quite    at   home.     I 

12— (2286) 


178      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

could  not  shake  hands  with  them,  but  my 
curiosity  prompted  me  to  touch  their  flesh,  which 
I  found  as  soft  and  smooth  as  that  of  a  living 
being.  I  certainly  did  not  discover  any  ''  dread- 
ful sight  "  ;  to  me  it  was  interesting.  I  cannot 
understand  what  "  molly-coddle  fudge "  could 
have  led  to  its  suppression  if,  as  I  have  been  led 
to  understand,  it  has  been  suppressed. 

We  are  an  extraordinary  people ;  we  will  not  let 
other  people  live  or  enj  oy  themselves  in  their  own 
way.  Arabs  must  have  their  houses  roofed — 
those  that  have  any  houses  ;  all  sorts  of  dark 
people  must  wear  breeches  or  petticoats  and  hats 
which  do  not  become  them  ;  other  people  must 
do  heaps  of  things  I  cannot  take  time  to  speak  of. 
If  there  is  a  fire  or  earthquake  happening  in  any 
part  of  the  world,  the  Lord  Mayor  of  London  must 
organize  a  subscription  to  pay  the  damage  ;  while 
we  might  be  washed  away  and  nobody  would  ever 
think  of  coming  to  rescue  us,  let  alone  pay  for 
damages. 

Some  old  lady  does  not  like  to  look  upon  a 
dead  monk ;  it  reminds  her  of  how  her  personal 
appearance  may  strike  the  stranger  when  she  has 
been  put  away  for  a  few  months  ;  so  we  must 
insist  upon  a  clearance  of  the  "  ghastly  sight  "  of 
a  few  peaceable  old  monks,  who  never  did,  and 
now  never  can,  harm  anyone.  Instead  of  sturdy 
Britons,  as  we  boast,  we  might  be  a  pack  of  super- 
annuated "  suffragettes,"  judging  by  the  silly 
pranks  we  play  before  High  Heaven. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

Change  in  Musical  Affairs — Resolution  to  try  New  Ground — 
Bound  to  Australia — An  Augury — A  Stormy  Time — The  Bar — 
Amusements  on  Board — Concert — Fancy  Ball — Forbidden 
Food — A  Glance  at  Eastern  Customs — Lunch  at  Ceylon — 
Pilots. 

I  CAME  back  to  London,  sound  in  wind  and  limb, 
determined  to  try  a  longer  sea  voyage.  Cogitating 
on  my  lady  friend's  enthusiasm,  and  the  Major's 
description  of  Egypt,  I  judged  it  would  be  possible 
to  make  a  combination  of  Australian  wealth  and 
a  little  Eastern  travel. 

Looming  in  the  early  future  I  saw  a  change 
coming  over  the  spirit  of  musical  affairs.  A  great 
influx  of  young  singers  had  already  interfered  with 
business  as  regarded  both  number  of  engagements 
and  terms  ;  to  the  former  I  had  to  submit,  to  the 
latter  I  would  not.  A  burthen  which  I  had  taken 
on  my  shoulders  and  which  had  been  constantly 
increasing  in  weight,  became  at  last  intolerable. 
I  had  to  get  rid  of  it  somehow.  I  consulted  a  physi- 
cian (not  a  M.D.)  who  assured  me  that  the  salt  air 
direct  off  the  ocean  and  continually  breathed  for 
some  weeks  was  the  only  remedy  for  my  malady  ; 
also  that  the  cure  would  be  effected  more  rapidly 
if  in  addition  water,  fresh  from  the  ocean,  were 
taken  in  at  the  pores. 

An  unexpected  tempting  offer  from  Australia 
settled  the  matter.     I  concluded  the  engagement, 

179 


180      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

which  was  for  a  series  of  concerts  and  oratorios  in 
the  Australasian  cities.  The  terms  I  demanded 
were  somewhat  less  than  £100,000,  but  as  I  was 
anxious  to  clear  out,  I  made  no  trouble  about 
a  few  thousands,  and  agreed  to  accept  a  sum 
satisfactory  to  both  parties. 

Before  I  left  London,  I  received  the  good  wishes 
of  the  members  of  the  congregation  and  choir  of 
St.  Joseph's,  Highgate,  and  the  blessing  of  the 
reverend  fathers,  accompanied  by  an  illuminated 
volume — in  which  were  recorded  the  names  of 
my  well-wishers — at  a  reception  held  in  the 
schoolroom  attached  to  the  Retreat. 

I  started  on  my  voyage  about  the  middle  of 
April,  in  the  P.  &  O.  R.M.S.  Oceana,  Capt.  Philip 
Tomlin,  whom  I  never  heard  indulge  in  quota- 
tions from  the  "  nautical  vocabulary."  The  only 
friends  who  came  to  see  me  off — Father  Vincent 
being  prevented  by  urgent  business — were  my 
staunch  old  chum,  Charley  Lyall,  and  the  Rev. 
Father  Bernard,  one  of  my  most  intimate  friends 
at  St.  Joseph's.  The  former  I  observed  alone  at 
the  end  of  the  quay  until  those  on  board  the  ship 
were  no  longer  distinguishable. 

Had  I  been  of  a  superstitious  turn  of  mind,  a 
slight  accident  which  occurred  during  our  passage 
down  the  river,  might  have  forewarned  me  that 
I  was  on  the  road  to  encounter  rough  times.  I 
was  too  elated  by  the  prospect  of  the  voyage  and 
seeing  new  countries  of  which  I  had  dreamed,  to 
trouble  my  mind  about  any  disagreeables  and 


VOYAGE   TO   AUSTRALIA  181 

difficulties  I  might  meet  with.  A  voyage  to 
Australia  is  such  an  ''  everyday  "  occurrence,  I 
do  not  intend  to  describe  mine,  but  limit  myself 
to  impressions. 

The  Bay  was  in  a  seriously  ruffled  condition. 
During  the  morning  of  the  second  day  we  were 
battling  among  its  wrinkles,  and  I  was  smoking 
my  pipe  as  calmly  as  was  possible  in  such  a  tossing, 
when  another  smoker,  who  said  he  had  sailed 
nearly  all  over  the  world,  got  on  his  legs,  and 
having  constructed  a  pendulum  with  a  piece  of 
string  and  his  pocket  knife  for  a  weight,  informed 
us  we  were  rolling  at  an  angle  of  about  forty-five 
degrees,  and  that  if  that  should  increase  to  two 
degrees  more,  we  should  be  capsized,  and  our 
lifeless  corpses  provide  food  for  the  sardines. 
Another  passenger,  also  a  hardy  seaman,  declared 
it  was  too  awful,  and  that  if  he  were  spared  to  set 
foot  on  dry  land  again,  never  more  would  he  trust 
himself  on  the  sea. 

I  confided  these  demonstrations  of  courage  to 
the  captain,  who  pooh-poohed  them,  adding,  ''  If 
I  catch  the  gentleman  at  work  with  his  knife  and 
string,  I'll  have  him  put  in  irons  ;  it  is  such-like 
cowards  who  raise  a  panic  when  there  is  not  the 
slightest  danger  !  "  Later  in  the  day  the  ''  toss- 
ing "  increased  to  such  a  degree  that  I  thought  it 
was  quite  possible,  with  the  weight  of  what  is 
called  top-hamper,  we  might  be  rolled  into  a 
watery  grave. 

At  dinner  only  six  people  out  of  one  hundred 


182      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

and  fifty-seven  sat  down  ;  two  retired  before  the 
soup  was  served,  other  two  after,  which  left  only 
two  diners,  myself  and  a  short,  stout  gentleman,  a 
friend  of  Harry  Kemble's,  going  to  Gibraltar,  who 
was  making  his  first  voyage  on  the  sea.  Dinner, 
of  course,  was  a  game  at  battledore  and  shuttle- 
cock, played  with  plates,  potatoes,  spoons,  knives 
and  forks,  and  other  pla3rthings.  It  was  im- 
possible to  stroll  about.  The  only  way  for  a 
dry-land  sailor  to  get  about  was  to  crawl  on  hands 
and  knees,  seizing  on  every  firm  object  to  prevent 
accidents.  I  retired  early  to  my  cabin,  which 
contained  only  one  berth,  but  not  to  sleep,  as  I 
had  fondly  hoped.  The  change  from  wooden 
bunks  to  iron  bedsteads  appeared  to  me  a  mistake, 
as  I  found  to  my  cost.  The  rail  in  the  side  of  the 
bed  had  lost  the  screw  or  bolt  which  held  it  in 
position ;  the  consequence  was  I  spent  the  night 
in  holding  on  tight  to  prevent  my  falling  out  of 
bed,  and  when  that  failed,  in  extricating  myself 
from  the  portmanteaus  which  were  performing  a 
spirited  fandango  about  the  floor.  I  have  ex- 
perienced much  stormier  weather,  but  ensconced 
in  an  old-fashioned  wooden  bunk,  buried  in 
pillows,  I  slept  the  sleep  of  the  just. 

In  the  early  days  of  the  Cunard  Company, 
wines,  spirits,  and  beer  were  included  in  the  amount 
paid  for  the  passage.  That  was  put  a  stop  to  in 
consequence  of  the  great  consumption  of  liquor 
and  the  consequences  an  unlimited  supply  free 
of    charge  induced.     Afterwards    liquors  of     all 


A  THIRSTY   SCOT  183 

descriptions  were  supplied  on  written  orders,  for 
which  the  account  had  to  be  paid  the  day  before 
arriving  in  port.  There  was  no  bar,  and  it  is  just 
possible  drinking  was  carried  on  to  a  less  extent. 
On  board  the  Victoria  for  some  days  I  noticed 
that  about  11  a.m.  a  great  number  of  the  male 
passengers  suddenly  disappeared  from  the  deck. 
I  had  no  curiosity  about  their  object,  I  was  only 
too  glad  to  get  more  room  to  myself. 

Without  enquiring  I  learned  from  a  party  of 
university  students  that  the  exodus  was  coin- 
cident with  the  opening  of  the  bar.  I  remon- 
strated with  one  of  the  boys,  advising  him  to 
limit  his  drinking.  He  listened  with  attention, 
and  admitted  my  advice  was  sound,  but  the  whole 
party  continued  in  the  course  they  had  hitherto 
pursued.  When  we  arrived  at  Malta,  one  of 
them  had  to  be  assisted  on  shore  and  put  to  bed, 
where  he  remained  for  several  days  recovering 
from  a  bad  attack  of  delirium  tremens.  On 
board  the  Oceana  steady  drinking  did  not  set  in 
until  we  left  Gibraltar.  Then,  every  morning,  the 
bar  was  besieged  by  a  number  of  choice  spirits  for 
some  time  before  its  portals  were  opened.  While 
it  remained  open  most  of  the  c.p's.  were  to  be 
seen  hanging  about  every  hour — busily  employed ! 

One  elderly  Scotchman,  after  the  bar  had  closed 
and  lights  were  turned  off  in  the  smoking  room, 
retired  to  his  cabin,  where  he  regaled  himself  with 
''  forbidden  fruit "  (drink  smuggled  into  the  cabins) 
until  he  fell  asleep.     This  guzzler,  soon  after  his 


184      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

arrival  at  Melbourne,  had  to  undergo  a  very 
serious  operation  in  the  region  of  the  lungs,  in 
consequence  of  his  over-indulgence  in  potations — 
so  the  surgeon  who  operated  told  me  ;  also  that 
the  operation  cost  him  ;^500.  If  his  libations  on 
board  the  Oceana  represented  the  "last  straw,"  he 
must  have  piled  on  stacks  before  I  knew  him. 

We  Britishers,  as  a  rule,  are  staid  in  our  move- 
ments on  shore — on"  the  sea  we  are  the  most 
restless  of  mortals.  On  the  old  ships  there  was 
little  room  for  taking  exercise.  The  hurricane 
deck  was  reserved  for  those  passengers  who  felt 
inclined  to  exercise  their  legs  or  recline  in  their 
deck  chairs  ;  only  on  the  main  deck  could  the 
games  of  ''  shuffle  board  "  and  ''  sea  quoits  "  be 
indulged  in. 

Now  that  the  upper  deck  is  reserved  for  the  use 
of  the  captain  and  officers,  pedestrians  and  players, 
both  adults  and  children,  mingle  on  the  lower  deck, 
where  the  games  interfere  materially  with  walking 
exercise.  Many  of  the  ''  games  "  are  so  silly  that 
I  wondered  anyone  under  any  circumstances 
could  be  induced  to  join  in  them.  In  later  years 
cricket  has  been  introduced — ''  the  game  of 
English  games  !  " — made  ridiculous  by  reason  of 
the  confined  space  which  can  be  allotted  to  its 
exercise  on  board  a  ship  carrying  a  great  number 
of  passengers. 

'*  That  terrible  unrest  which  men  call  pleasure  '* 
(James  Clarence  Morgan)  appears  to  develop  in 
the     British    sea-traveller    a     certain     disregard 


DEMANDS   ON   SINGERS  185 

(unconscious  I  believe)  for  the  comfort  and  con- 
venience of  his  neighbour.  On  a  railway  or  other 
land  journey,  rarely  do  we  encounter  the  lack  of 
politeness  and  regard  for  others  so  common  among 
travellers  belonging  to  other  European  nations. 
The  British  nation  calls  itself  ''  the  ruler  of  the 
sea."  The  English  subject,  I  have  frequently 
observed,  constitutes  himself  ''  the  ruler  of  the 
ship  "  in  which  he  happens  to  be  a  passenger. 

After  we  left  Gibraltar  an  ''  Amusements  Com- 
mittee "  was  formed,  of  which  I  was  elected  a 
member.  The  Rt.  Rev.  Bishop  of  Queensland 
accepted  the  ofhce  of  chairman,  and  an  eminent 
solicitor  of  Melbourne,  that  of  secretary  and 
treasurer.  The  nature  and  the  hours  allotted  to 
the  exercise  of  the  games  were  arranged ;  then 
came  the  question  of  music.  I  said  :  ''  My  lord 
and  gentlemen,  before  you  enter  into  a  discussion 
of  this  subject,  allow  me  to  say  that  as  I  am 
making  this  voyage  principally  with  the  object  of 
resting  after  the  hard  work  I  have  done  for  some 
years,  you  must  kindly  allow  me  to  limit  my 
services  to  assisting  in  the  arrangement  of  your 
programmes,  as  I  cannot  take  part  in  their  per- 
formance." As  music  was  the  only  part  of  the 
proceedings  in  which  my  services  would  have 
been  useful,  I  resigned  my  place  on  the  committee. 

I  cannot  see  why  a  singer  who  seizes  the  oppor- 
tunity afforded  him  of  obtaining  perfect  rest  after 
hard  work,  with  the  prospect  of  hard  work  com- 
bined with  irksome  travelling,  should  be  expected 


186      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

to  entertain  a  number  of  people  he  happens  to  be 
thrown  into  contact  with,  for  nothing.  I  strenu- 
ously object  to  such  a  proposal,  however  graciously 
it  may  be  made. 

Why  should  not  a  lawyer  be  expected  to  give 
his  opinion  on  every  legal,  or  a  doctor  on  every 
medical  question  which  may  arise  ?  Why  should 
not  a  painter  be  expected  to  execute  portraits  of 
those  of  his  fellow-passengers  who  would  like  to 
possess  their  effigies  on  canvas  ?  Why  should 
not  any  tradesman  be  expected  to  make  a  gift  of 
his  wares  to  everybody  with  whom  when  travelling 
he  comes  in  contact  ?  Because  the  employment, 
professional  or  otherwise,  of  his  talent  and  in- 
dustry, is  not  amusement,  it  is  the  means  by 
which  he  gains  his  income,  a  share  of  which 
smaller  or  greater  he  is  content  to  bestow  on  the 
needy,  according  to  the  amount  suggested  by  his 
generosity. 

Some  of  my  readers  may  christen  me  ''  cur- 
mudgeon ''  after  reading  this  "  tiresome  tirade. *' 
Let  them  not  be  over  hasty.  Though  I  have  to 
say  it  myself,  I  am  not  a  member  of  that  class. 
I  am  always  ready  to  do  a  ''  good  turn  ''  when 
there  is  a  probability  of  its  leading  to  a  ''  good 
result ''  of  any  kind.  On  this  score,  I  departed 
twice  from  my  determination  not  to  take  part  in 
the  musical  entertainments. 

Captain  Tomlin  was  very  kind  and  attentive  to 
me  throughout  the  voyage  ;  and  as  I  discovered 
he  was  desirous  of  hearing  me,  though  he  never 


A   CABAL   FRUSTRATED  187 

mentioned  the  subject  himself,  I  offered,  with  his 
permission,  to  organize  a  concert  on  my  own 
account  apart  from  the  arrangements  made  by  the 
Amusements  Committee.  I  was  fortunate  in 
securing  the  co-operation  of  Mr.  F.  Hensman, 
then  Sohcit or- General  of  Western  Australia,  after- 
wards Lord  Chief  Justice,  an  excellent  violinist  ; 
Mrs.  Hensman,  a  first-rate  accompanist,  and  their 
daughter.  Miss  Hensman,  a  fine  pianiste  ;  also  of 
a  lady  passenger,  whose  name  I  do  not  remember, 
a  very  good  amateur  vocalist. 

The  concert  was  a  great  success,  the  captain  was 
delighted,  and  I  was  very  pleased  that  I  had  been 
able  to  make  him  some  little  return  for  the  kind 
attention  he  had  paid  me.  I  also,  one  Sunday 
evening,  at  Miss  Hensman' s  request,  sang  a  few 
sacred  songs  in  the  music-room  for  the  captain's 
especial  entertainment,  when  only  about  a  dozen 
of  his  most  particular  friends  were  allowed  to  be 
present. 

At  Colombo  we  took  on  board  the  members  of 
an  equestrian  company,  who  had  lost  all  they 
possessed,  beyond  part  of  the  price  of  their  passage 
to  Australia.  I  tried  to  move  the  hearts  of  my 
fellow-passengers  in  their  behalf,  and  as  they 
could  not  give  a  performance  on  ship-board,  I 
started  a  subscription  for  their  benefit.  A  cabal 
was  organized  to  defeat  my  object ;  I  found  the 
plotters  were  going  to  give  an  entertainment,  in 
which  I  declined  to  take  part,  for  their  own  benefit, 
while  they  were  doing  all  that  lay  in  their  power 


188      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

to  defame  the  poor  equestrians.  I  discovered  the 
names  of  the  ringleaders,  and  handed  them  to  the 
captain,  notifying  him  of  the  cabal.  ''  If  that's 
their  game,  I  have  a  very  easy  way  of  settling  it," 
said  he.  The  rascals  had  ''  counted  their  chickens 
before  they  were  hatched,"  they  had  omitted  to 
ask  permission  to  give  the  entertainment  and  for 
the  removal  of  the  piano  to  the  second-class 
saloon  until  half-an-hour  before  the  hour  for 
commencing.  They  sent  an  impertinent  demand 
to  the  captain  for  both,  to  which  he  returned  an 
unqualified  refusal ;  giving  them  a  double  Roland 
for  their  Oliver,  and  me,  satisfaction. 

We  had  a  ''  fancy  ball,"  at  which  I  appeared 
in  the  character  of  a  naval  surgeon,  in  clothes 
borrowed  from  a  fellow-passenger,  a  doctor  in 
the  German  Navy.  I  confined  myself  to  visiting 
the  sick,  and  as  I  did  not  find  any,  I  got  off  easily. 
We  also  presented  a  ''  mock  trial,"  at  which 
the  Melbourne  solicitor  presided  with  great 
ability  ;  I,  as  the  father  of  the  plaintiff  (plaintively 
— I  beg  pardon — represented  by  a  niece  of  my 
Lord  Bishop)  made  a  fool  of  myself,  and  was 
hauled  out  of  court  by  the  purser,  who  played 
The  Bobby, 

During  a  sea  voyage,  ''  Games  "  occupy  a  great 
part  of  the  attention  of  most  of  the  English 
passengers,  but  ''  Meals "  occupy  the  serious 
attention  of  all  passengers,  excepting  those  who 
are  put  out  of  the  running  by  sea -sickness;  or  the 
few  who,  like  myself,  prefer  quality  to  quantity. 


MEALS   ON   BOARD   SHIP  189 

I  do  not  mean  to  infer  that  the  food  was  inferior 
in  quahty  ;  on  the  contrary,  meat,  poultry,  and 
vegetables  were  excellent  ;  but  the  lavish  display 
of  food  of  all  descriptions,  coupled  with  the 
''  gobbling  "  system,  acted  unfavourably  on  my 
appetite.  At  6  a.m.  tea  or  coffee  with  bread  and 
butter  were  served,  and  almost  universally  disposed 
of,  in  the  state  rooms  ;  this  was  not  counted  as 
a  meal ;  breakfast  at  8.30,  lunch  at  12.30,  and 
dinner  at  7,  were  served  in  the  saloon.  I  would 
scarcely  describe  them  as  meals,  but  rather  as 
gluttonous  feasts,  of  unnecessary  variety  and 
amplitude.     But   this   was   not   enough ;     about 

II  o'clock  a.m.  a  cup  of  beef -tea  with  a  biscuit 
was  handed  round  on  deck  and  below  to  everyone 
suffering  from  ''  a  sinking  "  ;  at  4  p.m.  there 
was  tea  in  the  saloon  for  those  who  required 
a  ''reviver"  from  slumber  induced  by  the  "sea 
air  "  ;  at  9  p.m.  biscuits  and  cheese  to  give  a 
fillip  to  the  ''  spiritual  nightcap." 

The  sea  air  must  surely  possess  great  influence 
as  a  digester  to  counteract  the  ill  effects  of  such 
gormandizing.  I  am  not  throwing  stones  from 
the  upper  storey  of  my  crystal  palace  ;  I  only 
wonder  ''  how  they  do  it  " — men  and  women, 
fat  and  lean,  merry  and  morose — and  live  ! 
I  have  a  good  appetite,  and  enjoy  my  food,  and 
am  by  no  means  an  epicure.  I  cannot  remember 
anything  eatable  that  I  could  not  make  a  meal  of. 
In  the  Holy  Land  I  have  dined  off  what  I  should 
describe   as    ''  cats'    meat  " — it   certainly   looked 


190      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

like  it — it  might  have  been  horse,  donkey,  or  any 
other  flesh  ;  my  dragoman,  who  thought  it  might 
be  beef  or  mutton,  could  not  solve  the  mystery — 
the  abundance  of  garlic  with  which  it  was  seasoned 
would  have  covered  a  multitude  of  sins — neverthe- 
less, with  the  addition  of  a  couple  of  hard-boiled 
eggs  and  a  little  salad,  and  washed  down  with  a 
bottle  of  good  sound  claret,  which  I  discovered 
on  a  shelf  of  the  cafe,  I  made  an  excellent  meal. 
I  tried  a  ''  narguille  "  by  way  of  a  comforter  after 
my  banquet,  but  as  I  only  succeeded  in  drawing 
water,  I  fell  back  on  the  customary  cigar. 

Attracted  by  the  sight  of  a  pile  of  joints 
of  mutton,  roasted  brown,  looking  as  crisp  as 
a  tender  lettuce,  I  mentioned  to  one  captain 
I  sailed  with,  that  I  believed  the  owners  might 
save  a  deal  of  money  by  adopting  a  more 
economical  and,  at  the  same  time,  more  wholesome 
system  of  catering.  I  quoted  the  joints  I  had 
seen  during  my  ramble  below.  ''  Oh  !  oh  !  '* 
he  exclaimed,  *'  those  are  for  the  second-class 
saloon,  where  they  fare  a  great  deal  better  than 
we  do." 

A  good,  well-cooked  joint,  carved  on  the  table, 
is  worth  all  the  variety  dishes,  served  out  in 
portions,  half-cold  by  the  time  they  reach  the 
table.  I  sighed  when  I  called  to  mind  the  simple, 
substantial  meals  I  partook  of  in  the  officers' 
mess-room  aboard  the  Russia.  Despite  the 
superabundance  of  food  on  board  the  Oceana, 
there    were    two    favourite    dishes    (with    many 


ADDENDA  TO   THE  MENU  191 

people)  that  never  appeared  on  the  menu — boiled 
corned  beef^  and  boiled  leg  of  mutton.  I  com- 
plained one  day  of  this  omission  to  the  head 
steward,  who  informed  me  that  it  was  by  order 
of  the  directors  of  the  company  ;  though  we  had 
cold  boiled  beef  served  at  lunch  often,  the  hot 
article  was  prohibited,  as  also  boiled  mutton. 
He  promised  he  would  for  once  disobey  orders 
to  oblige  me  ;  a  day  or  two  after  he  announced 
to  me  with  great  glee  there  would  be  a  boiled  leg 
for  my  especial  delectation — it  happened  to  be 
on  a  Friday,  so  I  could  not  partake  ;  that  ended 
the  boiled  mutton,  and  the  hot  corned  beef  never 
began. 

What  have  boiled  mutton  and  beef  done  that 
they  should  be  condemned  to  perpetual  exile 
from  a  ship's  table  ?  The  only  way  in  which 
I  can  account  for  it  is,  that  some  of  the  said 
directors  must  have  paid  their  respects  to  the 
dainty  dishes  too  freely,  and,  out  of  pure  good 
nature,  eliminated  the  ''  temptation  to  transgress  " 
from  future  ''  bills  of  fare  "  ! 

As  a  result  of  my  experience,  may  I  be  allowed 
to  say  that  I  returned  from  Australia  in  one  of  the 
mail  boats  of  the  Messageries  Maritimes,  to 
Suez  ;  from  Jaffa  to  Marseilles  I  sailed  in  a  small 
steamer  of  the  same  company  ;  from  Alexandria 
to  Jaffa,  in  one  of  the  Khedive  line  ;  and  my  last 
voyage  to  New  York  and  back,  in  a  R.M.S.  of  the 
Compie.  Generale  Transatlantique ,  on  all  of  which 
I  found   the  food,  though  no  better  in  quality, 


192      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

vastly  more  tempting  and  agreeable  than  on 
any  English  ship  I  have  ever  sailed  in,  simply 
because  it  was  more  Umited  in  variety  and  better 
served. 

P.S. — The  doctor  of  the  Jaffa-Marseilles  boat, 
a  little,  wizened,  old  Frenchman,  but  a  rare 
performer  with  knife  and  fork,  made  a  declaration 
every  day  at  dinner,  that  ''if  he  were  ruler,  he 
would  banish  all  sauces  as  poison ''  ;  and  his 
dessert  daily  consisted  of  pears,  each  mouthful 
of  which  he  covered  with  a  thick  coating  of  butter, 
and  dry  walnuts. 

The  Alexandria- Jaffa  doctor,  a  fine,  plump 
specimen  of  an  Italian,  at  dinner  stowed  away 
at  least  a  couple  of  pounds  of  maccheroni  alia 
Napolitana  as  an  introduction  to  a  meal  sufficient 
for  ''  Og.'*  I  do  not  know  why,  and  it  may 
seem  strange,  but  their  strenuous  exertions  did 
not  affect  me  or  my  appetite :  it  must  have  been 
their  way  of  ''  doing  it  'M 

My  first  glimpse  of  Eastern  life  was  at  Port 
Said,  and  it  was  not  a  pleasant  one.  As  far  as 
I  could  learn,  it  was  a  den  of  rogues  and  vagabonds 
who  might  add  the  letters  T.  and  M.  after  their 
signatures  without  overstepping  the  bounds  of 
truth.  The  coaling  of  the  ship  supplied  me  with 
an  idea  of  the  ''  infernal  regions,"  and  I  decided 
I  would  prefer  some  cooler  place.  When  I  awoke 
next  morning  and  found  I  was  gliding  down 
the  Suez  Canal,  I  jumped  out  of  bed,  dressed 
quickly,   and  rushed  on   deck,   when   I   got  the 


AN   ARAB    STORY-TELLER  193 

glimpse  my  soul  had  been  longing  to  behold  ever 
since  I  could  remember — life  as  it  was  in  the  time 
of  Moses — I  had  arrived  ''  at  the  summit  of  my 
climax/'  as  a  dear  old  lady  I  know  exclaimed 
at  a  picnic^  with  a  glass  of  champagne  in  her  hand 
ready  for  ''  lowering/'  mounted  on  the  dickey 
of  a  four-in-hand.  I  saw  a  real  desert,  a  string 
of  real  camels  in  the  far  distance,  with  a  real 
driver  seated  on  the  neck  of  the  leader  ;  I  had 
no  more  left  to  wish  for  !  I  was  content — for 
the  time  being  ! 

I  went  on  shore  at  Aden.  I  saw  the  ''Cisterns/' 
I  saw  Sindbad  driving  a  string  of  camels  laden 
with  merchandize  ;  also  ebony  black  gentlemen  in 
the  '*  buff  " — except  for  a  cloth  of  small  dimen- 
sions round  the  loins.  But  the  sight  which  above 
all  made  my  heart  rejoice,  was  an  Arab,  with 
silvery,  flowing  hair  and  beard,  picturesquely 
attired,  squatted  on  a  table  in  the  middle  of  a 
large  piazza,  entertaining  a  crowd  of  his  country- 
men seated  on  the  ground  in  front  of  him,  with 
interesting  stories,  judging  from  the  rapt 
attention  of  the  listeners,  for  I  had  no  other 
means  of  judging,  as  I  was  not  then  proficient 
in  the  Arabic  tongue.  For  this  reason,  too, 
I  was  obliged  to  resort  to  signs  in  order  to  effect 
the  purchase  of  sweets  I  had  promised  to  the 
lady  passengers.  The  most  effective  sign  was 
the  offer  of  a  sixpence,  which  the  purveyor 
distinctly  understood  ;  he  handed  me  a  packet 
of  Aden   mixtures ;     I   chucked  down    the  coin 

13— (2286) 


194      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

and  fled,  leaving  a  crowd  of  his  countrymen,  who 
had  joined  in  arranging  the  bargain,  scrambhng 
for  it. 

Landed  at  Colombo,  my  first  experience  was 
a  *'  sensation,"  viz.,  seeing  two  British  ladies 
mount  into  a  vehicle  horsed  by  a  native — naked, 
except  for  the  towel  round  his  loins.  It  struck 
me  that  so  much  undressed  ham  was  a  curious 
sight  for  two  delicate  females  to  gaze  upon  at 
close  quarters. 

Before  landing  I  was  boarded  by  an  *'  inter- 
viewer," whom  I  dismissed  with  my  blessing, 
and  without  any  information,  which  may  have 
been  the  cause  of  an  announcement  in  the  next 
day's  journal,  of  the  arrival  of  Stanley,  the  great 
African  explorer.  Also  by  a  gentleman  in 
regimentals,  surmounted  by  a  pith  helmet,  who 
turned  out  to  be  Brigadier-Surgeon  Samuel 
Archer,  an  old  schoolfellow  of  mine,  whom  I  had 
not  seen  for  upwards  of  forty  years.  He  took 
me  on  shore  and  lunched  with  me  at  the  Hotel 
near  the  quay  ;  we  had  mulligatawny  soup,  which 
I  said  was  hot,  strong,  and  nasty ;  he  said  it  was 
a  mere  hotel  imitation  of  the  genuine  article. 
After  a  cheroot  and  coffee,  which  I  thought  might 
have  ''  grew  somewheer  else "  than  in  Ceylon, 
we  drove  along  the  shore  to  make  a  provision  of 
prawns,  which  we  disposed  of  at  dinner,  in  shape 
of  a  ''  curry."  I  found  it  excellent ;  it  was  my 
first  and  last  experience  of  the  real  Simon  pure. 

It  was  nearly  dark  when  we  were  going    up 


AN   INATTENTIVE   PILOT  195 

King  George's  Sound  in  charge  of  a  pilot.  I  was 
standing  by  the  captain,  who  was  keeping  a 
scrutinizing  eye  on  the  shore  signals.  All  of  a 
sudden  he  bawled  out,  *'  Where  the  devil  are  you 
taking  my  ship,  sir  ;  don't  you  know  you  ought 
to  have  that  red  light  to  port,  and  you've  got  it 
to  starboard?"  ''So  much  for  pilots,"  he  added 
in  a  lower  key  to  me  ;  *'  if  I  hadn't  always  piloted 
my  own  ship,  I  should  have  been  wrecked  many 
a  time."  Though  I  have  the  name  of  a  ''  good 
sailor,"  I  am  not  a  navigator,  but  I  kept  my  eye 
fixed  on  that  red  light  until  I  heard  the  anchor 
drop. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

Arrival  at  Adelaide — Interviewers — Reunion  at  the  Town  Hall — 
Melbourne — Mutton  Chop  Diet — Hospitality — Government 
Patronage. 

This  voyage  for  me  ended  at  Adelaide,  where 
we  arrived  on  a  Sunday  morning  before  the  break 
of  day.  I  was  roused  from  a  pleasant  slumber  by 
my  steward,  who  came  to  announce  the  arrival 
on  board  of  the  agent  who  was  to  take  me  in 
charge,  Mr.  Charles  Stevens,  an  excellent  musician, 
through  whom  the  terms  of  my  engagement 
with  the  syndicate  were  arranged,  and  one  or 
two  members  of  the  syndicate.  I  was  requested 
to  prepare  at  once  to  go  on  shore,  while  they 
superintended  the  work  of  rescuing  my  baggage 
from  the  hold.  As  they  were  all  prepared  with 
good  appetites,  we  sat  down  to  breakfast  before 
leaving  the  ship.  They  made  havoc  with  steaks, 
chops,  fish,  ham  and  eggs,  and  other  little  trifles, 
We  landed  at  what  would  have  been  a  dreary 
spot  had  it  not  been  for  the  glorious  sun.  The 
few  habitations  I  could  discover  were  chiefly 
erections  of  corrugated  iron,  which  added  to  the 
dreary  appearance  of  the  region.  We  had  to 
wait  a  considerable  time  for  a  train  to  take  us 
on  to  Adelaide  proper,  where  I  was  to  remain 
the  guest  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stevens. 

Arriving   later   than    was   expected,    we   com- 
menced operations  with  another  substantial  meal. 

196 


INTERVIEWERS  197 

I  had  barely  time  for  a  doze  to  refresh  my  brain 
after  the  early  rising  and  fuss  attendant  on  leaving 
the  ship,  when  I  was  disturbed  to  my  disgust  by 
an  interviewer,  whose  first  question  was,  "  What 
do  you  think  of  Australia  ?  "  to  which  I  replied, 
'*  As  I  only  set  my  foot  on  shore  a  few  hours  ago 
I  really  cannot  tell  you  ; "  adding  by  way  of  turning 
the  tables  and  interviewing  him,  "  I  notice  the 
sky  is  overcast,  do  you  think  there  is  any 
probability  of  a  snowstorm  ?  *'  ''  Oh  dear  no," 
said  he,  staring  hard,  as  though  he  fancied  he 
was  in  the  presence  of  a  lunatic  ;  "  we  never  have 
snow  here/'  With  this  the  interview  terminated  ; 
he  made  some  few  remarks,  shuffling  about 
uneasily  on  his  chair,  and  shortly  made  his  exit, 
politely  wishing  me  a  prosperous  tour,  and  hoping 
he  would  soon  have  the  pleasure  of  hearing  my 
voice  in  song. 

I  had  scarcely  disposed  myself  to  complete 
my  ''  forty  winks,"  when  another  tormentor 
was  announced.  He  bowed  on  entering,  but  was 
evidently  so  taken  aback  with  my  appearance — 
pleasantly  or  unpleasantly,  I  cannot  say — that 
he  remained  speechless,  gazing  at  me.  A  little 
of  that  goes  a  long  way,  so  I  led  the  attack  with, 
*'  Might  I  request  the  honour  of  knowing  what 
you  wish  to  ask  me  ?  "  In  a  faint  voice  he 
replied,  "  Upon  my  word,  I  don't  know  ;  I  was 
sent  here  to  interview  you,  but  I  have  no  idea 
how  to  begin."  I  told  him  I  thought  he  had 
better   arrange    the   interview   according    to    his 


198      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

own  fancy,  sticking  to  "generalities/'  so  as  not  to 
involve  me  in  any  difficulties.  I  bowed  him  out, 
and  gave  strict  orders  to  my  hospitable  host  to 
refuse  admittance,  under  pain  of  severe  penalty, 
to  any  interlopers. 

The  following  day  I  opened  the  ball  by  attend- 
ing a  reunion  at  the  Town  Hall,  in  order  to  receive 
the  congratulations  of  the  Mayor — who  was 
attended  by  the  civic  authorities  and  the  elite 
of  Adelaide — on  my  safe  arrival,  and  the  kind 
wishes  of  all  present  for  my  health  and  prosperity. 

Many  speeches  were  made,  all  of  which  elicited 
universal  acclamation  ;  the  proceedings  terminated 
with  a  stand-up  lunch,  and  we  parted  in  sorrow, 
to  meet  again  in  a  very  short  time  in  joy  ! 

I  immediately  left,  carefully  guarded  by  "  my 
agent,"  for  Melbourne,  where  I  arrived  safe  on 
the  following  morning.  A  long  night  journey 
and  early  arrival  are  not  conducive  to  the 
formation  of  pleasant  impressions.  I  was  not 
favourably  impressed  with  a  city  of  which  I  had 
heard  much  in  praise.  Wide  streets  have  no  joy 
for  me  unless  adorned  with  picturesque  or  elegant 
buildings,  neither  of  which  I  discovered.  Irregu- 
larity is  picturesque  under  certain  conditions, 
which  conditions  were  not  fulfilled  as  regards 
Collins  and  other  streets,  where  the  blank  brick 
wall  of  a  tall  building  might  be  seen  rising  above 
the  roof  of  another,  half  its  height.  The  hotel 
where  I  put  up  (first  stating  that  I  have  been  told 
on  competent   authority  it  is  now  excellent  in 


AUSTRALIA   CONQUERED  199 

every  department)  deserved  anathema  :  sleeping 
apartments,  bath-rooms,  sitting-room,  kitchen 
and  other  accommodation  (?)  all  included. 

In  the  culinary  department  the  employes  must 
assuredly  have  been  supplied  by  his  Satanic 
Majesty  ;  the  only  food  I  found  palatable  or 
digestible  was  ''  mutton  chops/'  and  they,  how- 
ever succulent,  are  palling  when  partaken  of 
every  day.  We  do  not  know  what  we  are  capable 
of  until  we  try  ;  I  managed  to  ''  scrape  on  *'  a 
monotonous  existence  on  the  chop  diet,  and  get 
through  my  work,  so  I  will  not  murmur.  An 
occasional  "  oasis  ''  in  the  shape  of  a  dinner  at 
the  house  of  an  acquaintance,  on  whom  H.S.M. 
had  not  obtruded  one  of  his  myrmidons,  was  a 
relief  to  my  anxious  stomach. 

I  do  not  intend  to  trouble  you  with  the  successes, 
anxieties  and  bothers  of  one  description  or 
another  which  I  experienced  in  the  musical  part 
of  my  exile  ;  one  concert  is  so  much  a  facsimile 
of  another  that  they  require  no  description. 
I  must  not,  however,  omit  a  few  amusing  anec- 
dotes connected  more  or  less  with  music.  I  will 
sum  up  in  the  three  words  (which,  without 
egotism,  I  may  be  allowed  to  make  use  of)  with 
which  Julius  Caesar  announced  the  success  he 
achieved  during  his  tour  in  Gallia,  without  so 
much  as  alluding  to  the  clang  of  trumpets  and 
arms,  the  roll  of  tambours,  the  songs  of  victory, 
the  groans  of  the  dead,  etc.  :  ''  Veni,  vidi, 
vici  !  " 


200      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

I  will  keep  entirely  to  the  narration  of  my 
travels  and  any  incidents  of  travel  that  I  think 
may  prove  interesting  to  the  reader,  including 
the  vast  amount  of  experience  I  gained  in  the 
process  of  "  eye-opening."  I  may  say,  as 
patient,  I  found  it  in  general  an  unpleasant 
process,  and  I  am  doubtful  whether  it  was  at  all 
times  pleasant  to  the  operating  surgeon.  I  like 
to  start  on  any  expedition  with  something 
pleasant,  so  I  will  preface  my  narration  with 
offering  my  most  grateful  thanks  to  all  I  met  in 
Australia — whether  personal  acquaintances,  or 
the  more  distant  who  assisted  as  public — at  the 
entertainments  of  which  I  was  the  feature. 

I  met  with  unbounded  hospitality  wherever 
I  went,  and  was  offered  a  great  deal  more  that 
I  could  not  possibly  accept.  I  will  not  attempt 
to  name  all  the  kind  friends  I  met,  the  list  would 
double  the  size  of  my  book,  and  I  am  sure  that 
will  be  found  large  enough  without  the  addition. 
I  will  say,  briefly,  that  I  was  an  invited  guest  at 
each  Government  House  in  Australia,  New 
Zealand,  and  Tasmania ;  that  I  had  the  honour 
of  the  Governor  and  lady's  patronage  at  each 
seat  of  government. 

From  His  Eminence  Cardinal  Moran,  His  Grace 
Dr.  Carr,  Archbishop  of  Melbourne,  and  the 
Archbishops,  Bishops  and  Clergy  of  all  the 
Australasian  dioceses  I  visited,  I  received 
distinguished  marks  of  friendship  and  esteem ; 
and  from  the  members  of  the  Treasury,  Sydney^ 


AUSTRALIAN   HOSPITALITY         201 

I  received  a  testimonial  in  the  shape  of  a  hand- 
some gold-clasped  album,  containing  fine  photo- 
graphic views  of  all  the  interesting  buildings 
in  Sydney,  and  of  the  various  interesting  spots 
dotted  around  the  splendid  harbour,  prefixed 
with  an  illuminated  inscription  signed  by  the 
members.  In  brief,  I  was  like  the  lady  who  went 
to  Banbury  Cross  ;  with  rings  (formed  by  friendly 
digits)  on  my  fingers  ;  and  bells  (friendly  greetings 
that  dogged  my  footsteps)  on  my  toes  ;  I  had 
plenty  of  music  (the  music  expressive  of  the 
approbation  of  an  admiring  audience)  wherever 
I  went !     Not  rhyme,  but  truth  ! 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Arrival  at  Melbourne — Organist^and  Oculist — A  Teetotal  Break- 
fast— Gout — Adelaide  Again — ^^Musical  Festival — A  Dealer  in 
Shares — Return  to  Melbourne — "  Elijah  " — Sydney — A  Golden 
Vision — Water -parties — An  Orator — A  Lively  Hotel — A  French 
Restaurant. 

Before  entering  on  a  subject  so  dear  to  my 
heart,  and  pocket — ''  My  Peregrinations  at  the 
Antipodes/* — I  will  describe  briefly  the  two 
individuals  whom  Destiny  had  appointed  to  be 
my  companions  and  the  directors  of  my  exploits. 
I  had  only  a  few  hours'  experience  of  ''  my  agent " 
(charged  by  the  syndicate)  when  I  learned  from 
his  little  ways  that  his  notion  of  direction  was 
that  he  was  to  act  as  ''  organ-grinder  "  and  I  the 
*'  monkey/'  held  in  subservience  by  a  chain  of 
sufficient  length  to  allow  me  to  perform  my 
gambols,  and  collect  the  pence  bestowed  by  an 
admiring  crowd  for  the  benefit  of  his  exchequer. 
The  arrangement  added  to  his  importance,  and 
did  not  hurt  me,  so,  instead  of  annoyance, 
it  provided  me  with  a  considerable  fund  of 
amusement. 

I  will  then,  with  your  permission,  during  the 
course  of  this  narrative  entitle  him  ''  The 
Organist."  The  other  individual,  to  whom  the 
syndicate  sold  the  right  of  my  services  in  all 
places  in  Australia  except  Adelaide,  I  soon 
discovered  to  be  an  expert  at  ''  eye-opening " ; 
I  will  therefore  briefly  name  him  ''  The  Oculist." 

202 


A   TEETOTAL   MEAL  203 

The  day  after,  I  had  to  attend  a  breakfast 
given  in  my  honour,  to  receive  congratulations 
and  good  wishes,  etc.  Dr.  Llewellyn  Bevan, 
Independent  Minister,  presided ;  of  the  other 
guests  I  need  only  mention  the  Rector  of  the 
Jesuit  Church,  to  keep  me  in  countenance  ;  Armes 
Beaumont,  the  favourite  Australian  tenor  ;  the 
Oculist  and  the  Organist ;  the  other  gentlemen 
present  (there  were  no  ladies,  I  think)  I  regret 
to  say  I  do  not  remember.  The  Oculist 
explained  that  breakfast  had  been  chosen  for  the 
banquet  as  the  majority  of  guests  were  staunch 
teetotallers,  and  the  presence  of  wine  on  the  table 
therefore  inadmissible.  Speeches  were  made,  of 
course,  and  toasts  drunk  in  tea,  coffee,  soda  water, 
or  any  other  unfermented  liquor  ;  the  affair  was 
of  such  a  funereal  character  that  I  ''  jumped  for 
joy  ''  at  the  termination  of  the  proceedings.  So 
dismal  an  entertainment  I  had  never  taken  part 
in,  not  even  a  funeral.  It  might  have  been  an 
augury  of  what  was  in  store  for  me,  as  the  sequel 
will  show.  I  must  not  omit  to  mention  that  I 
was  the  recipient  of  bouquets  and  wreaths, 
intended  by  the  donors  to  make  my  heart  rejoice, 
but  they  only  succeeded  in  intensifying  the 
dulness  of  the  solemn  function. 

I  had  only  sung  at  three  or  four  concerts  when 
I  was  seized  with  a  sharp  attack  of  gout,  which 
I  laid  to  the  charge  of  ''  that  breakfast."  Except 
that  my  big  toe  precluded  the  possibility  of 
taking  exercise,  I  suffered  no  inconvenience  and 


204      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

went  on  with  my  work  for  either  eight  or  ten 
concerts — after  which  I  returned  to  Adelaide  to 
sing  at  a  festival  which  occupied  a  week.  I  took 
part  in  ''  Elijah/'  ''  Acis  and  Galatea,"  and  two 
miscellaneous  concerts,  under  the  able  direction 
of  Charles  Stevens.  He  had  plenty  of  opportunity 
of  displaying  his  ability,  his  band  partook  some- 
what of  the  nature  of  Falstaff' s  ragged  regiment, 
the  ''  variations ''  they  introduced  would  have 
astonished  Mendelssohn  as  much  as  or  more  than  a 
certain  celebrated  songstress's  rendering  of  ''  Una 
voce  poco  fa  "  astonished  Rossini,  causing  him — 
after  complimenting  her  on  her  artistic  singing — 
to  ask  her  what  air  she  had  favoured  him  with, 
adding — on  being  informed — "  Really !  I  did  not 
recognize  it  so  overladen  with  '  variations  ' "  ! 

During  my  stay  I  was  introduced  to  the  most 
important  member  of  the  syndicate,  a  worthy 
man  who  had  risen  from  the  ranks  to  wealth  and 
importance ;  he  made  no  pretence  to  be  ^^a  lover  of 
music."  At  the  performance  of  "Elijah  "  he  sat 
right  under  my  eye,  whence  I  had  a  good  oppor- 
tunity of  watching  him  ;  his  face  might  have 
been  carved  in  wood  or  stone,  so  devoid  was  it  of 
any  expression  throughout  the  performance.  The 
next  evening  he  called  to  pay  me  an  official  visit ; 
he  did  not  say  a  word  about  ''  Elijah  "  ;  when  he 
rose  to  depart  I  asked  him  if  he  was  going  to  hear 
the  next  concert,  miscellaneous.  "  No,"  he 
replied ;  ''I  don't  find  anything  attractive  in 
music,  I  am  going  down  town  to  try  and  pick  up 


*' ELIJAH"   AT   MELBOURNE       205 

a  few  coins."  He  was  a  great  dealer  in  shares — 
chiefly  mining — which  at  that  time  were  offered 
for  purchase  or  sale  in  the  frequented  streets,  like 
newspapers,  and  very  often  at  the  price  of  one. 
I  perhaps  need  not  add,  it  was  not  the  produce 
of  the  mines,  but  paper  shares  that  affected 
profit  or  loss.  When  I  was  in  Charters  Towers 
I  heard  criers  offering  shares  at  prices  ranging 
from  twopence  to  five  shillings. 

I  returned  to  Melbourne,  where  we  gave,  in 
addition  to  a  number  of  ordinary  concerts,  a 
performance  of  *'  Elijah."  In  consequence  of 
being  put  to  extra  expense  for  band  and  chorus, 
the  Oculist  deemed  it  fitting  to  raise  the  prices 
of  admission.  Having  little  experience  of  the 
Melbourne  public,  I  did  not  interfere ;  the 
consequence  of  the  augmentation  was  that  the 
stall  frequenters  would  not  pay  the  advanced 
price  for  the  stalls,  and  would  not  occupy  ''  second  " 
places  ;  this  was  the  only  financial  failure  during 
my  tour  in  Victoria  and  New  South  Wales. 

My  next  move  was  to  Sydney,  the  city  I  had 
some  anxiety  to  visit,  for  this  reason  :  a  Colonel 
or  General  Owen,  brother-in-law  of  my  mother, 
in  1832  or  1836  was  sent  out  there  in  a  command 
of  some  importance,  connected  with  the  ''  exile 
from  my  native  land  at  government  expense  " 
department.  I  was  curious  to  learn  something 
about  the  commander,  but  as  the  only  man  who 
might  have  satisfied  my  curiosity  could  not 
remember  anything  about  him,  my  slender  link 


206      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

with  the  aristocracy  and  gentry  was  snapped. 
With  a  democratic  Unk  I  was  more  fortunate  ! 
My  father's  brother,  by  trade  a  bookbinder,  found 
his  talents  were  not  sufficiently  appreciated  in 
his  native  country,  and  therefore  not  productive 
of  the  amount  of  worldly  wealth  to  which  he 
believed  he  was  entitled. 

After  balancing  for  some  time  between  Natal 
and  Australia,  he  ultimately  decided  on  making 
his  fortune  as  a  squatter  in  the  latter  country. 
Accompanied  by  his  wife  and  family,  he  sailed 
from  Liverpool  in  the  clipper  ship  Golden 
Vision  (that  was  not  her  real  name,  but  it  will 
do  as  well  as  any  other)  about  1851  or  1852, 
provided  with  a  plough  and  other  agricultural 
implements,  which  he  had  never  learned  how  to 
handle.  They  arrived  at  Geelong  safe  and  sound  ; 
the  solid  Golden  Vision  departed  on  her  return 
voyage  in  due  course,  and  his  ideal  golden  vision 
soon  departed  on  its  return  voyage  to  the  arsenal 
where  such  chimeras  are  constructed. 

To  establish  a  farm  in  a  new  country,  three 
things  are  essential :  knowledge,  money,  and 
time ;  my  uncle's  knowledge  was  confined  to 
theory,  his  money  was  reduced  to  a  few  pounds, 
consequently,  he  had  no  time,  so  he  had  to  fall 
back  on  what  he  had  learned  to  do.  To  the  news 
of  his  disappointments,  he  added  a  request  that 
my  father  would,  at  his  earliest  inconvenience y 
send  him  a  bookbinder's  plough,  as  he  had 
determined  on  making  a  fortune  by  exercising 


COUSIN   CHANG  207 

his  own  trade.  The  last  I  heard  of  him,  through 
my  father,  was  that  bookbinding,  too,  had  turned 
out  a  failure,  and  he  was  keeping  the  wolf  from 
the  door  making  chip  hat-boxes. 

One  of  his  daughters  married  Chang,  the 
Chinese  giant,  so  we  had  one  giant  at  least  in  the 
family.  When  the  pair  paid  a  visit  to  my  parents 
in  Liverpool,  my  mother  was  frightened  out  of 
her  wits  when  she  beheld  the  ''  lengthened  body 
long  drawn  out  "  bowing  its  head  to  get  in  at  the 
parlour  door,  but  she  soon  calmed  down  when  she 
found  what  a  kind,  gentle  being  she  had  to  deal 
with.  My  elder  cousin  I  used  to  visit  at  the  Prince 
Alfred  Hospital,  Sydney,  of  which  she  was  matron, 
and  highly  respected  by  everybody  connected 
with  the  Institution.  I  spent  many  pleasant 
evenings  with  her,  and  occasionally  trotted  her 
about  on  the  harbour,  etc.  She  was  the  essence 
of  good  nature  ;  the  only  fault  she  found  in  me 
was,  **  I  had  turned  Catholic  !  " 

The  Rev.  Alphonsus  O'Neill,  Passionist,  who 
had  been  sent  over  to  establish  a  mission  or 
missions  in  Australia,  was  at  that  time  in  charge 
of  one  in  the  suburbs  of  Sydney.  In  honour  of 
my  visit,  he  made  up  a  water  party,  that  I  might 
make  acquaintance  with  the  beauties  of  the 
splendid  harbour,  chartered  a  steamboat,  and 
invited  a  number  of  distinguished  guests  to  meet 
me.  I  thought  I  could  dispense  with  the  Organist's 
services  and  grind  the  organ  myself,  as  it  was 
merely  a  party  of  pleasure,  so  I  quietly  slipped 


208      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

my  collar  and  went  on  my  way  rejoicing.  I  was 
surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  Church  ''nobs/*  mostly 
of  the  Hibernian  persuasion,  and  a  merry  crew 
they  were,  determined  on  making  a  pleasure  of 
a    pleasure    for    themselves    and    all    concerned. 

Among  the  laity  was  the  Hon.  ,  a  fine 

specimen  of  the  Milesian,  a  man  who  by  his 
industry  and  thrift  had  risen  from  the  position 
of  a  small  tradesman  to  the  important  office  of 
Postmaster-General  of  New  South  Wales. 

He  delighted  in  showing  his  talent  as  an  orator, 
which,  though  expressed  in  the  most  flowery 
language,  preserved  a  solid  foundation  of  common 
sense  and  charity.  His  opportunities  of  cultiva- 
ting an  acquaintance  with  history  had  been 
limited,  and  at  times  he  found  himself  floundering 
in  a  jungle  from  which  extrication  was  impossible. 
On  one  occasion  he  was  called  on  to  preside  at 
a  merry  meeting  somewhat  akin  to  that  we  were 
enjoying,  for  which  he  had  prepared  a  discourse 
of  great  interest.  As  the  greater  part  of  the 
guests  were  clericals,  he  deemed  it  would  be  apt 
to  introduce  a  brief  review  of  the  Church  from  its 
foundation. 

Not  being  certain  of  his  ground,  during  the 
awkward  interval  preceding  the  banquet  he 
consulted  one  of  his  reverend  friends,  a  wag, 
as  to  the  accuracy  of  his  ''points"  ;  he  quoted 
the  ''Fathers'*  back  to  St.  Jerome.  "But," 
interrupted  his  friend,  "  you  have  not  mentioned 
the   father   of   them    all !  "      "  And   who's   he," 


A  SUNSET  WATER-PARTY  209 

says ?    ''  Why  man,  Confucius,  of  course.*' 

''  Confucius  !  I  never  heard  his  name  before/' 
At  that  moment  the  order  for  the  onslaught  was 
given,  so  there  was  no  time  for  further  explanation. 
The  president  had  to  take  his  place,  grace  was 
said,  and  they  fell  to. 

Dinner  concluded,  cigars  lighted,  all  was  ready 

for    the    speechifying ;     rose,    of    course 

greeted  with  a  storm  of  applause — his  speech 
was  a  masterpiece.  In  conclusion,  he  spoke  in 
most  eloquent  and  glowing  terms  of  all  the  most 
distinguished  of  the  fathers  of  the  Church  ;  "  but," 
said  hCj  ''  we  must  never  forget  the  father  of  them 
all  (a  pause),  Confucius."  The  guffaw  with  which 
this  unexpected  (save  by  the  wag)  announcement 

was  received  made  the  rafters  ring,  and  

pause  in  astonishment,  wondering  how  he  had 
"  put  his  foot  in  it  "  ;  for  a  moment  only  an 
indignant  frown  overspread  his  countenance ; 
the  joke  was  explained,  and  instead  of  retiring 
to  a  corner  to  sulk,  he  joined  in  the  universal 
shout  of  laughter,  and  all  ended  well ! 

I  was  also  the  honoured  guest  at  an  evening 
water-party,  given  by  Mr.  F.  Burdekin  and  his 
charming  wife,  that  I  might  have  an  opportunity 
to  enjoy  the  beautiful  scenery  of  the  harbour 
under  the  influence  of  the  glow  of  the  setting  sun, 
and  also  of  the  light  of  the  full  moon.  A  sumptuous 
collation,  consisting  of  hot  and  cold  viands  and 
excellent  wines,  was  served  on  board.     When  the 

sun  had  gone  down,  we  strolled  about  the  deck, 

14— (2286) 


210      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

smoking  excellent  cigars  provided  by  our  attentive 
host,  and  conversing  by  the  light  of  the  moon. 
I  can  only  describe  it  as  a  '*  regal  entertainment/' 
With  a  chosen  few  of  the  guests  I  was  driven  to 
our  host's  residence  (I  confess  I  did  not  require 
much  pressing)  where  supper  (Good  gracious  ! 
after  the  feast  we  had  disposed  of  !)  awaited  us. 
I  left  my  share  to  take  care  of  itself,  and  enter- 
tained myself  with  a  pleasant  chat  with  my 
hostess.  I  do  not  remember  whether  the 
Organist  was  of  the  party ;  if  he  was  he  left  his 
instrument  and  chain  behind,  and  I  performed 
my  gambols  on  my  own  account,  undisturbed 
by  any  thought  of  the  collection  of  pence.  It 
was  at  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Burdekin's  house  that 
subsequently  I  was  presented  with  the  *'  Treasury  " 

testimonial,    before    mentioned,    by , 

one  of  the  most  distinguished  among  Australian 
statesmen. 

I  avoid  instituting  comparisons,  because  I 
found  staunch  friends  and  pleasant  acquaintances 
in  every  Australasian  city  I  visited  ;  but  I  feel 
bound  to  say  that  I  liked  Sydney  best,  perhaps 
because  I  knew  it  best.  I  had  more  opportunities 
of  becoming  acquainted  with  it,  as  I  had  the 
advantage  of  being  chaperoned  by  an  amiable, 
well-informed,  patient  guide,  a  lady,  one  of  my 
fellow-passengers  on  board  the  Oceana.  Her 
mother,  at  whose  house  I  passed  many  a  pleasant 
afternoon  and  evening,  was  a  constant  attendant 
at  our  concerts,  her  silver  grey  hairj  surmounted 


MOSQUITOES  211 

by  an  elegant  white  cap  always  distinguishable 
wherever  she  might  be  seated  in  the  concert-room, 
which  led  to  my  rebaptizing  her,  ''  Mother 
Whitecap/'  by  way  of  contrast  to  our  own 
''  Mother  Redcap/^ 

Here,  in  Sydney,  as  in  Melbourne,  it  was  as 
great  a  relief  to  escape  from  my  hotel  as  it  was 
to  slip  my  collar  of  servitude.  The  house  was 
infested  with  rats,  cockroaches  of  a  size  I  had 
never  seen  before,  and  swarms  of  mosquitoes, 
which  I  dreaded  most  of  all.  On  singing  days 
we  dined  at  four,  when  we  had  the  dining-hall  to 
ourselves,  except  for  the  rats  and  cockroaches, 
who  beguiled  the  weary  hour  of  wrestling  with 
tough  joints  or  tougher  poultry — both  badly 
cooked — with  frisky  gambol  or  solemn  march. 
I  shall  never  forget  the  first  night  I  tried  to  sleep 
in  that  hostelry  ;  I  was  tired  and  very  sleepy 
when  I  retired,  for  I  had  been  travelling  all  the 
previous  night,  but  not  a  wink  could  I  get. 

When  I  arose  in  the  morning  I  was  a  sight  to 
behold,  I  might  have  been  a  toothsome  guest  in 
a  wasps'  nest.  The  mosquito  curtain,  badly 
secured,  had  come  down  on  the  top  of  me  and 
with  it  the  host  of  expectant  blood-suckers  lying 
in  wait  for  a  chance  to  glut  their  appetites  on 
my  attractive  carcase.  After  this  wretched 
experience  I  bribed  the  chambermaid  wherever 
I  went,  with  a  sum  down  and  a  promise  of  a  like 
sum  on  my  departure  if  she  would  ensure  me 
from  the  inroads  of  the  noxious  insects,  with  a 


212      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

perfectly  satisfactory  result.  I  slept  every  night 
for  eight  months  shielded  by  a  mosquito  net ; 
had  I  not  resorted  to  bribery,  I  might  have 
returned  to  my  native  country  a  *'  skeleton 
dude/'  if  I  had  not  been  returned  shut  up  in  a  box. 
To  my  relief  I  found  out  a  French  restaurant — 
I  might  say  to  the  relief  of  my  teeth — I  could 
masticate  anything  masticable,  but  I  contend 
that  beef  fed  on  the  gnarled  trunk  of  the  oak, 
and  fowls  fed  on  pebbles  are  not.  I  made  the 
acquaintance  of  the  proprietor  of  the  restaurant 
through  an  habitue;  1  had  explained  to  him  the 
'*  crisis  '' — starvation  by  inches, — he  undertook 
to  feed  me  properly,  and  he  did,  and  I  left  off 
examining  the  protrusion  of  my  joints  to  my 
great  satisfaction.  Under  his  culinary  care,  I 
scraped  acquaintance  with  a  species  of  food 
I  had  never  heard  of  before,  soup  made  from  a 
living  thing  (I  don't  know  what  to  call  it)  varying 
in  size  from  an  inch  and  a  half  square,  down  ; 
black,  soft,  with  the  appearance  of  a  square 
leech  ;  it  was  most  repulsive  to  look  upon  as  a 
food  ;  but  the  soup,  of  which  it  formed  the  base, 
I  found  excellent,  similar  in  flavour  to,  though 
nothing  like  so  substantial  as,  turtle  soup.  I  gave 
a  dinner  on  my  birthday  to  my  comrades  and  a 
few  friends  which  surprised  them  for  its  excellence ; 
the  cost,  as  is  not  always  the  case,  was  exceedingly 
moderate. 


CHAPTER  XX 

At  Melbourne — A  Lady  Visitor's  Request — A  Hebrew  Visitor's 
Modest  Demand — Lalla  Miranda — Voyage  to  Brisbane — 
Storm — Jolly  Companions — A  Bullock  Driver — Another 
Lively  Hotel — An  Old  Acquaintance. 

I  RETURNED  to  Melbourne  for  a  second  series  of 
concerts.  The  waiter  came  to  me  one  day  to 
inform  me  there  was  a  visitor  desirous  of  seeing 
me.  ''  Who  is  the  visitor  ?  "  I  demanded.  ''  It's 
a  female,  sir/'  was  the  reply.  ''  What's  her 
name  ?  "  '*  I  don't  know."  ''  Pray  go  down  and 
enquire." 

He  returned  with  a  card,  and  informed  me  she 
was  a  respectably-clad  person,  though  he  would 
hardly  call  her  a  lady.  I  requested  him  to  show 
her  up.  She  came,  and  stood  curtseying  at  the 
door.  I  begged  her  to  come  in  and  take  a  seat ; 
she  was  dressed  in  mourning,  her  head  in  an  old- 
fashioned  bonnet,  and  on  her  hands  she  wore 
a  pair  of  black  kid  gloves,  the  fingers  of  which 
hung  an  inch  or  so  over  the  ends  of  her  digits. 
I  asked  her  what  might  be  the  object  of  her 
visit  ?  Her  reply  I  will  shorten,  as  it  was  rather 
spun  out.  She  had  known  my  elder  sister, 
having  attended  the  same  chapel  in  London, 
and  gave  me  so  many  details  about  my  family 
that  I  felt  sure  she  was  not  a  malgre — a  name  by 
which  Lyall  and  I  always  distinguished  the 
begging-letter    writer.     I    asked    her    kindly    to 

213 


214      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

inform  me  to  what  all  this  history  was  a  prelude  ; 
then  I  learned  that  she  had  unfortunately  been 
an  inmate  at  the  hospital  for  two  months,  suffering 
from  a  grave  malady  ;  on  her  recovery  she  found 
her  lodgings  all  topsy-turvy,  no  preparation  made 
for  her  return,  so  she  had  to  turn  out  to  make 
some  necessary  purchases ;  with  a  parcel  under 
her  arm  she  was  stepping  into  a  tram-car,  the 
car  started  suddenly,  she  was  jolted  off  the  step, 
and  her  parcel,  unfastened,  discharged  its  cargo 
on  to  the  pavement  ;  she  had  to  scramble  them 
together  as  fast  as  she  could,  so  as  not  to  be  left 
in  the  lurch,  and  not  until  she  had  been  seated 
for  some  time  did  she  discover  that  her  set  of 
artificial  teeth  had  been  jerked  out  of  her  mouth 
and  were  now  lost  beyond  hope  of  recovery.  A 
few  kind  friends  were  subscribing  to  pay  for  a  new 
set  of  teeth,  would  I  add  a  trifle  ?  Of  course  ! 
Had  I  been  doubtful  about  the  truth  of  the  story 
(which  I  was  not),  I  would  have  subscribed  to  the 
fund  merely  on  account  of  its  originality. 

Another  day,  as  I  was  re-entering  the  hotel 
after  a  walk,  the  porter  signified  to  me  that  a 
'*  person "  was  anxiously  awaiting  my  return 
in  the  smoking-room.  I  went  in  and  there  beheld 
rather  a  comical  figure,  short,  wiry-looking  with 
bandy  legs,  for  which  I  felt  grateful  (my  friend 
Charley  Lyall  told  me  I  ought  always  to  feel 
grateful — I  can't  imagine  why — when  I  met  a 
bandy-legged  man).  He  held  a  rough  cap,  the 
worse  for  wear,  in  his  hands,  nervously  twisting 


A   HEBREW   "PAL"  215 

it  as  though  wringing  the  sweat  of  his  brow  out 
of  it.     I  knew  at  once  by  his  nasal  organ  and 
heels,    and   by   his    want    of    well    pronouncing 
''  Shibboleth  "  to  what  persuasion  he  belonged. 
He  greeted  me  with  great  politeness. 

"  Mithter  Charleth  Thantley,  I  beheve  !  '' 

**  That  is  my  name,  may  I  be  favoured  with 
yours  ?  I  cannot  call  to  mind  having  met  you 
before  !  " 

''  Well,  Mr.  Thantley,  my  name'th  Tholomonth, 
Ithaac  Tholomonth,  and  Tve  come  to  athk  you, 
ath  I  know  you're  a  kind-hearted  man,  to  do  me  a 
favour.  You  thee,  Mr.  Thantley,  we're  both  in 
the  thame  line." 

''  Indeed  !  "  (I  wondered  what  part  he  could 
take  with  such  a  ''  make-up  "  and  such  a  husky 
organ.) 

''  Yeth  !  Mr.  Thantley,  thame  line,  only  you 
do  the  vocal  and  me  the  acrobatic,  but  itth  all  the 
thame  line  ;  you  thing  and  I  do  the  tumblin'  ;  you 
muthn't  judthe  from  what  you  thee  me  now  ; 
I've  been  laid  up  with  rheumatith  for  three 
monthth  and  jutht  come  out  o'  'othpital.  Now, 
I  mutht  tell  you  I've  'ad  a  hoffer  of  a  hengathe- 
ment ;  only  a  little  'un,  but  it'U  keep  the  wolf 
from  the  door  while  it  lathth,  and  leave  thome- 
thin'  to  thpare  to  keep  me  and  the  miththith 
and  kidth  until  I  get  another." 

''  All  right,  and  what  do  you  want  me  to  do, 
brother  Solomons  ?  " 

''  It  ithn't  mutth,  I  only  want  to  get  two  or 


216      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

three  ragth  of  cothtume  I  had  to  depot  hit  with 
my  uncle." 

''  But  how  much  will  you  require  ?  '' 

''  Well,  you  thee,  Mr.  Thantley,  they're  only 
bitth  of  ragth,  not  worth  mutth,  could  you  thtand 
five  bob  ?  " 

''  Five  bob  !   but  will  that  set  you  up  ?  " 

**  Five  bob,  thir,  '11  do  sthunnin'  ;  it'th  not 
mutth  to  a  thwell  like  you,  and  it  'ud  be  a  fortune 
to  a  poor  bloke  like  me." 

I  was  taken  aback  by  the  modesty  of  his 
demand,  and  handed  him  five  shillings  on  the 
spot. 

''  God  bleth  you,  Mr.  Thantley,  may  you  always 
find  a  friend,  if  you  thould  ever  want  one ;  you've 
made  a  man  of  me  again  ;  my  mitthith  and  the 
kidth  'uU  be  ath  grateful  to  you  ath  I  am.  God 
for  ever  bleth  you  !  " 

As  he  was  going  out  of  the  door  he  turned 
round,  and,  as  a  last  adieu,  bid  me  remember 
*'  We're  palth,  you  know,  Mr.  Thantley  !  God 
bletth  you  !  "  I  never  heard  of  him  again,  but 
I  often  wondered  what  acrobatic  feats  he  would 
be  likely  to  perform  with  those  poor,  stiff,  bandy 
legs  ! 

I  had  other  visitors  by  no  means  so  interesting 
as  Ikey.  Some  that  thought  they  had  voices  and 
had  not ;  some  who  fancied  they  could  sing  and 
had  appeared  in  public,  but  had  never  learned  the 
A  B  C  of  singing  ;  some  possessing,  in  their  own 
estimation,  voice  and  genius,  who  only  needed  to 


AN   EXCEPTION   TO  THE   RULE       217 

run  home  (as  they  always  call  England)  and  be 
trained  for  two  or  three  months,  then  to  come 
back  and  make  a  heap  of  money. 

Among  a  great  number  I  found  an  exception  to 
the  rule  :  a  fragile  girl,  born  of  EngHsh  parents, 
but  whether  in  England  or  Australia  I  do  not 
know.  Her  father  I  had  known  in  Liverpool,  a 
tenor  singer  who  enjoyed  a  good  reputation  in  the 
North  of  England.  Her  mother,  v/hom  I  did  not 
know,  brought  the  child  for  me  to  hear,  and  give 
my  opinion  of  her  abilities  and  voice,  and  of  the 
probability  of  her  success  as  a  professional  singer. 
I  heard  her,  and  was  exceedingly  pleased  with  her 
graceful  execution,  but  I  told  her  mother  I  did 
not  think  her  voice  sufficiently  robust  to  be 
effective  in  a  hall  or  theatre.  However,  as  the 
girl  was  only  a  little  over  fifteen  years  of  age,  it 
was  quite  probable  her  voice  would  gradually 
acquire  sufficient  power,  if  properly  used,  as  she 
developed  in  physique.  I  never  heard  any  more 
of  her  until  last  October,  when  I  was  at  a  per- 
formance of  ''  Don  Giovanni  "  at  Co  vent  Garden. 
The  only  accomplished  artiste  in  the  caste  was  the 
lady  who  played  Zerlina.  She  sang  the  music  as  I 
had  not  heard  it  since  Angelina  Bosio  died,  and  she 
played  the  part  exceedingly  well,  with  great  humour 
and  vivacity.  She  was  the  little,  fragile  girl  I 
heard  in  Melbourne,  and  her  name  is  Lalla  Miranda ! 
My  prophecy  was  fulfilled.  Her  voice,  clear,  bright, 
and  sympathetic,  had  acquired  sufficient  power 
to  be  effective  in  any  theatre  or  hall. 


218      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

I  sang  at  Ballarat,  Geelong,  and  other  towns  in 
Victoria,  and  then  turned  my  steps,  or  rather  *'  sea 
legs/*  in  the  direction  of  Queensland — more  on 
account  of  prolonging  my  voluntary  exile  and 
seeing  as  much  of  Australia  as  possible  while  I 
had  the  chance,  than  of  any  hope  of  filling  my 
coffers.  I  saw  as  much  as  I  wanted  to  see,  and 
returned  as  rich  as  I  went.  I  started  from 
Melbourne  and  had  to  change  ship  at  Sydney. 
Here  it  was  blowing  hard  when  we  left,  and  when 
we  got  out  into  the  open  sea  we  encountered  a 
fairly  strong  gale  which  as  we  proceeded  increased 
to  a  violent  storm.  For  three  days  we  tossed 
about  merrily.  The  second  evening,  after  dinner, 
I  scrambled  along  the  deck  to  the  smoking-room, 
which  I  found  almost  entirely  occupied  by  jovial 
companions,  who  determined,  if  we  were  bound 
in  that  direction,  to  go  down  merrily.  Their 
society  was  not  to  my  taste,  and  after  finishing 
my  pipe,  I  went  below  to  my  room,  but  not  to 
sleep  ;  we  rolled  heavily,  and  I  began  to  fear  we 
should  go  down — merrily  or  otherwise. 

I  managed  to  get  a  little  snooze  at  intervals, 
rose  early,  and  went  up  ;  but  I  dared  not  trust 
myself  on  deck,  the  sea  was  so  high.  We  passed 
a  dreary  day  (I  noticed  that  the  jolly  companions 
did  not  put  in  an  appearance),  the  air  below  was 
stifling,  and  the  odour  from  the  bilge  water, 
onions,  cockroaches,  combined  with  other  un- 
pleasant perfumes,  most  offensive.  After  dinner  I 
could  not  stand  being  shut  up  any  longer ;  I  crawled 


A  STORMY   VOYAGE  219 

to  the  smoking-room,  which  I  found  deserted. 
After  a  vain  endeavour  to  settle  myself,  I  put  my 
pipe  away  and  crawled  back  to  the  "  companion/' 
Shortly  afterwards  a  seaman  who  was  doing  some 
duty  on  the  part  of  the  deck  I  had  crossed,  was 
washed  overboard  and  left  to  a  watery  grave. 
The  night  seemed  endless.  I  got  out  of  my  cabin 
early  in  the  morning.  When  I  entered  the 
saloon  I  found  only  one  other  passenger  :  a  young 
Passionist  Father  on  his  way  to  the  north  of 
Queensland  to  preach  a  "  mission  "  in  some  of  the 
more  important  towns.  We  said  our  prayers  and 
read  our  *'  office  ''  in  company  to  prepare  for  the 
worst. 

The  captain,  named  Armstrong,  a  Scotchman 
by  birth,  brought  up  and  educated  in  Liverpool, 
came  down  to  partake  of  some  refreshment,  which 
he  sorely  needed,  as  he  had  stood  lashed  to  the 
bridge  the  whole  of  the  night  and  part  of  the 
preceding  day.  He  informed  us  that,  to  avoid 
the  danger  of  running  on  the  rock-bound  coast, 
he  had  put  out  to  sea,  and  as  he  could  not  take 
observations  in  consequence  of  the  dense  atmo- 
sphere, he  had  no  idea  where  we  were.  He  also 
informed  us  of  the  loss  of  the  unfortunate  seaman 
and  of  five  out  of  eleven  horses  on  passage  to 
Brisbane,  and  that  another,  a  fine  young  stallion, 
had  been  found  in  his  box  with  his  legs  upper- 
most. As  evening  approached,  the  eyes  of  the 
few  people  about  were  strained  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  any  light  on  shore.     At  last  all  hope  of  such 


220      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

bliss  departed,  and  we  were  just  about  to  separate 
for  the  night,  when  we  heard  the  ''  look-out  "  on 
the  mast  sing  out  ''  light  ahead/'  which  drew  a 
universal  "  Thank  God  '*  from  the  few  people  up. 
Having  made  sure  it  was  not  the  voice  of  the 
deceiver,  I  turned  in  and  slept  like  a  top.  When 
I  turned  out  in  the  morning  we  were  gliding 
tranquilly  up  a  river. 

While  smoking  my  pipe  on  deck  after  breakfast, 
I  noticed,  for  the  first  time,  a  passenger  of  small 
stature,  attired  like  a  Methodist  minister  :  black 
frock-coat  and  trousers,  tall  hat,  and  white  neck- 
cloth all  complete.  I  sat  down  by  him  and  was  soon 
in  conversation  with  him.  I  was  very  surprised 
when  he  informed  me  he  was  a  cattle-breeder. 
That  with  the  assistance  of  eight  men  and  four 
dogs  he  had  driven  eight  thousand  head  of  cattle 
from  the  Gulf  of  Carpentaria  down  to  Sydney,  and 
having  disposed  of  the  lot,  was  returning  to  his 
home.  The  journey  south  occupied  ten  months. 
The  whole  of  the  work  of  keeping  the  cattle 
together  was  done  by  the  men,  the  dogs  being 
useless,  except  as  watchers  in  the  night — if  they 
kept  awake.  That  they  had  lost  less  than  a 
hundred  head,  including  what  were  killed  to 
supply  them  with  food,  and  their  only  difficulty 
had  been  to  make  sure  of  a  supply  of  water,  in 
which  they  had  been  extremely  lucky. 

We  were  detained  some  time  before  there  was 
sufficient  depth  of  water  to  take  us  over  the  bar, 
but  we  arrived  at  the  quay  at  Brisbane  soon  after 


AN   HOTEL   MENAGERIE  221 

six  in  the  morning.  The  reverend  Father  and 
I  jumped  on  shore  and  went  immediately  to 
the  cathedral,  he  to  say  and  I  to  hear  Mass, 
which  we  both  offered  in  thanksgiving  for  our 
deliverance  from  peril. 

Merciful  goodness !  what  an  hotel  I  found. 
Sydney  I  reckoned  as  bad  as  might  be,  but  ''  in 
the  lowest  depth  there  was  a  lower  depth  "  ready 
to  do  anything  but  provide  me  with  a  decent 
lodging.  (I  have  heard  on  competent  authority 
that  this,  too,  has  now  been  changed  into  a  house 
where  comfort,  cleanliness,  and  good  victuals  are 
the  order  of  the  day.)  The  bedrooms  would  have 
been  condemned  by  the  workhouse  authorities  at 
home,  the  cookery  was  wretched,  and  other  apart- 
ments— which  could  only  be  described  by  for- 
bidden expletives — could  only  be  reached  across 
a  yard,  which  the  performances  of  two  cows,  pigs, 
turkeys,  ducks,  chickens,  and  pigeons  converted 
into  a  loathsome  species  of  skating  rink.  And 
this  was  the  fashionable  resort  of  the  traveller  at 
that  time. 

When  we  supped  after  the  concert,  we  were  not 
only  entertained  by  the  gambols  of  the  rats,  but 
with  their  music.  I  always  kept  a  sharp  look-out 
for  fear  a  stray  cockroach  might  crawl  up  my 
breeches,  mistaking  them  for  his  nest.  And 
there  were  winged  things  they  called  *'  silver 
fish,"  that  unless  you  observed  the  utmost  care, 
took  possession  of  your  portmanteaus  or  drawers 
and  ate  up  your  clothes  like  locusts  (this  is  no 


222      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

exaggeration).  At  Brisbane  we  remained  a  week 
or  ten  days,  and  gave  several  concerts,  also  a 
performance  of  ''  Elijah/'  under  difficulties  with 
regard  to  orchestra.  The  chorus  did  their  work 
well,  having  been  trained  by  Mr.  Seymour  Dicker, 
the  organist  of  the  cathedral,  who,  contrary  to  the 
rule,  turned  out  an  excellent  conductor.  At  the 
rehearsal  I  spotted  a  face  which  seemed  familiar  ; 
its  owner  was  blowing  ''  the  loud  bassoon  "  (too 
carefully  to  cause  a  panic).  He  caught  my  eye 
and  smiled.  I  smiled  back,  and  we  kept  up  a 
smiling  duet.  At  a  pause  for  refreshment,  he 
came  up  and  asked  me  if  I  did  not  remember 
Buckridge's  little  brother.  ''  I  am  Buckridge  !  " 
He  was  a  schoolfellow  of  my  son,  and  of  a  son  of 
Hepworth  Dixon,  all  three  pupils  at  Mr.  J.  M. 
Menzies'  academy  in  Carlton  Hill. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

The  Organist  as  Artiste — The  Oculist's  Pocket  Companion — 
Concerts  by  "Particular  Desire" — A  Pair  of  Old  Boots — The 
Laughing  Jackass — Rockhampton  Criticism — Mount  Morgan 
Mine — Oculistic  Confidences  re  Amusements  Bureau. 

Before  proceeding  further  on  our  new  ground, 
I  must  ask  you  to  return  with  me  in  spirit  to  my 
arrival  at  Melbourne,  and  my  first  introduction  to 
the  Oculist.  I  did  not  allow  my  feelings  to  influ- 
ence me  in  my  business  relations  with  the  Oculist, 
until  we  began  to  arrange  the  programmes  of  the 
concerts,  and  even  then  gave  the  ^*  doubt  the 
benefit  "  and  allowed  things  to  slide,  confining 
myself  to  observation.  I  was  surprised  to  find 
that  the  Organist  was  to  take  an  active  part ;  his 
share  of  the  programme  being  the  first  song,  and 
another  near  the  end  of  the  concert ;  an  arrange- 
ment, the  disadvantage  of  which  to  me  and  the 
syndicate,  never  occurred  to  me  until  things 
became  considerably  mixed. 

The  syndicate  were  to  receive  a  stipulated  sum, 
besides  a  percentage  of  the  profits  accruing  from 
the  concerts.  I  had  no  money  to  receive  beyond 
the  amount  set  down  in  my  engagement,  but  my 
reputation  as  a  ''  draw ''  was  at  stake.  In  my 
anxiety  to  do  my  work  well,  I  bestowed  no  thought 
on  other  matters,  which  were  really  the  Organist's 
business,  and  he  was  so  intent  upon  grabbing  all 
he  could,  I  presume  he  was  equally  careless.     The 

223 


224      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

Oculist — ''  Artful  Dodger/'  as,  save  for  brevity, 
he  might  be  named  more  appropriately — saw 
that  the  Organist  engaged  on  the  platform  and  in 
the  green-room,  while  the  people  were  coming  in, 
could  know  nothing  about  the  money  taken  at  the 
doors,  and  consequently  could  not  correct  any 
mistake  in  the  amount  returned.  I  always  have 
believed  in  the  probity  of  mankind  until  I  found 
myself  unmistakably  deceived.  I  was  undeceived 
by  a  friend  I  made  on  board  the  Oceana^  a  young 
barrister — for  family  reasons  exported  to  Aus- 
tralia,— a  clever,  active  fellow,  but  prone  to 
indulge  in  irregularities,  who,  at  my  request,  was 
put  on  the  "  free  list,''  and,  being  devoted  to 
music,  attended  all  our  concerts.  He  told  me, 
but  too  late  to  effect  a  remedy,  that  the  Oculist 
was  not  perfect  in  arithmetic,  and  suggested  it 
would  be  well  if  the  Organist — being  intimate  with 
Cambridge,  and  probably  an  adept  at  figures — 
gave  him  a  few  lessons.  I  had  no  right  and  did 
not  attempt  to  interfere,  an  ''  error  of  judgment  " 
which  cost  me  dear. 

Though  I  let  suspicion  slide,  there  was  a  halo  of 
something  unpleasant  about  the  Oculist  that 
baffled  any  desire  I  had  to  be  on  intimate  terms 
with  him.  To  begin  with,  he  was  a  teetotaller  ! 
I  like  and  strive  to  exercise  temperance  ;  tee- 
totalism  is  not  temperance.  In  nine  cases  out  of 
ten  the  teetotaller — a  total  abstainer  as  regards 
intoxicating  liquor — is  a  glutton  as  regards 
solid    food,    substituting   ''  gorging  " — the    more 


TEETOTALLERS  225 

pernicious  sin  of  the  two — for  ''  guzzling/'  I  do  not 
include  the  individual  who  is  aware  of  his  or  her 
weakness  and  totally  abstains  from  intoxicants  by 
force  of  will.  The  Oculist  was,  according  to  his 
own  declaration,  a  rigorous  teetotaller.  Certain 
indications  with  which  I  had  cause  to  be  familiar, 
made  me  doubt  it.  He  was,  also  according  to  his 
own  declaration,  a  model  of  piety,  which  I  doubted, 
too  :  truly  pious  people  do  not  ram  their  piety 
down  other  people's  throats,  and  he  was  a  perfect 
Chadband  at  that,  which  I  think  the  sequel  to  this 
part  of  my  narrative  will  clearly  demonstrate. 

Like  Job  Trotter  he  carried  a  little  book  in  his 
pocket,  of  which  he  made  liberal  use  when  we  were 
on  a  journey,  and  from  which,  he  explained,  he 
derived  great  comfort.  I  cannot  imagine  from 
what  part ;  it  was  the  New  Testament,  and  I  never 
found  anything  there  about  eye-opening  on  his 
system,  except  to  condemn  it.  I  mention  this 
solely  as  the  little  book  plays  a  small  though,  I 
think,  an  important  part  in  the  denouement  which 
we  are  approaching. 

During  my  stay  at  Brisbane,  beyond  what  I 
have  already  noted,  nothing  of  any  interest 
occurred,  except  the  receipt  of  a  letter  from  an 
individual  who  described  himself  as  a  fellow 
student  of  my  son-in-law  at  Cambridge,  on  the 
strength  of  which  he  demanded  a  loan  of  thirty 
pounds  to  take  him  back  to  England,  as  he  was 
disgusted  with  the  slight  appreciation  of  his 
merits  he  had  met  with  at  the  Antipodes.     Having 

I5-(2286) 


226      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

no  means  of  verifying  his  statement,  I  left  the 
letter  unanswered.  Three  days  after,  I  received  a 
few  lines  of  impudent  comment  on  my  meanness 
and  lack  of  urbanity ;  to  which  I  repHed  that 
not  knowing  anything  about  him,  and  not 
having  thirty  pounds  at  my  disposal  to  lend,  I 
did  not  consider  it  necessary  to  reply  to  his  first 
communication . 

After  Brisbane  we  started  on  a  tour  which 
extended  north  to  Townsville  and  Charters 
Towers,  then  south  to  Sydney,  stopping  at  various 
places  on  our  way.  It  proved  a  fairly  interesting 
pleasure  trip,  as  far  as  change  of  air  and  scene  were 
concerned.  Objects  of  interest  to  me  were  only 
conspicuous  by  their  absence.  Profit  from  the 
start  I  did  not  hope  for,  and  I  was  not  disappointed 
at  finding  the  balance  of  the  profit  and  loss 
account  representable  by  the  algebraical  x.  This 
result  was  not  surprising,  considering  the  sort  of 
places  we  performed  at.  In  many  of  them  the 
inhabitants  had  no  experience  of  the  pleasure 
derivable  from  a  good  concert,  and  did  not  care 
to  acquire  it  at  the  expense  of  their  pockets.  In 
others  they  had  probably  paid  for  experience,  and 
finding  it  not  worth  the  cost,  did  not  choose  to 
spend  their  money  foolishly.  There  were  a  few 
(very  few)  towns  where  we  had  crowded  rooms. 
At  Townsville,  for  instance,  the  room,  a  fairly 
large  one,  built  of  wood,  was  densely  packed.  The 
weather  was  hot  and  the  windows  had  to  be 
thrown  wide  open,  or  the  atmosphere  inside  would 


A   CONCERT   ON   THE   CHEAP         227 

have  been  somewhat  similar  to  the  often  quoted 
''  Black  Hole  of  Calcutta."  The  consequence 
was  that  the  crowd  outside  could  hear  the 
music  quite  as  well  as  those  who  were  sweltering 
inside. 

As  we  were  to  remain  at  Townsville  some  days 
to  await  the  departure  of  our  steamer,  the  Oculist 
and  Organist  conceived  the  brilliant  idea  of 
announcing  another  concert,  "  by  particular 
desire."  The  wily  To wns villi tes,  acting  on  the 
experience  of  the  first  experiment,  declined  paying 
for  inside  places,  and  preferred  standing  or  sitting, 
as  numbers  did,  outside.  At  a  house  close  by,  a 
dinner  was  given  to  a  large  number  of  guests  who, 
after  dining,  emerged  on  to  the  verandah  (a  very 
spacious  one)  and  sat  out  our  concert  over  their 
coffee,  cigars,  and  grog.  The  attendance  within 
the  hall  was  very  meagre  ;  the  profit  on  the  first, 
and  the  loss  on  the  second  concert,  left  a  very 
trifling  balance  on  the  credit  side  of  the  account. 
The  concert  at  Charters  Towers  was  a  replica  of 
the  first  at  Townsville,  and  as  we  could  not  remain 
long  enough  to  give  a  second,  the  profit  made  a 
decent  addition  to  the  treasury.  In  both  places 
the  outsiders  insisted  upon  sharing  the  rights  of 
the  insiders,  demanding  encores  and  putting  a 
stop  to  the  concert  until  their  demands  were 
acceded  to. 

At  a  wretched  place  called  Brandeburg,  I  had 
an  amusing  adventure.  We  arrived  there  by  sea 
about  eight  o'clock  on  a  Sunday  evening,  and  as  I 


228      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

wanted  to  take  some  walking  exercise,  I  told  the 
Organist  I  would  stroll  over  to  the  church  to  learn 
at  what  hour  they  said  Mass  on  week-days.  He 
at  once  proposed  to  accompany  me.  It  was  a 
magnificent  moonlight  night,  the  ground  so  white 
it  appeared  covered  with  snow,  while  objects  in 
the  shade  and  shadows  were  black  as  Erebus. 
We  came  to  the  corner  of  a  cross-road,  and  there 
on  the  ground  I  espied  two  black  objects  which  I 
took  for  small  animals.  I  called  the  Organist's 
attention  to  them,  who  cautioned  me  against 
approaching,  as-  he  felt  certain  they  were  no  other 
than  a  pair  of  Australian  black  rats :  most 
ferocious  beasts.  I  could  have  sworn  I  saw  them 
moving  their  ears,  and  he  declared  he  had  noticed 
the  same  thing.  We  were  on  the  point  of  moving 
on,  when  a  boy  came  up  in  the  opposite  direction, 
whistling  gaily.  I  hailed  him  with  :  ''I  say,  my 
boy,  can  you  tell  us  what  animals  those  are  ?  " 
*'  Where  ?  ''  said  he.  *'  There,  close  at  our  feet/' 
I  replied.  ''  Oh,  them."  He  then,  with  more 
courage  than  I  possessed,  went  up  and  examined 
them.  '*  Them,"  he  called  out ;  **  Ha  !  ha  !  them's 
a  pair  o'  old  boots." 

Next  day,  having  nothing  to  do,  I  went  out  after 
breakfast  to  take  a  lonely  stroll  in  the  woods  ; 
still  "  the  forest  primaeval."  I  sat  down  on  the 
fallen  trunk  of  a  tree  to  admire  the  beautiful 
plumage  of  the  birds,  and  the  magpie's  exquisite 
note,  resembling  that  of  the  bullfinch,  only  fuller. 
I  fell  into  a  doldrum,  from  which  I  was  startled 


A   GENEROUS   MAYOR  229 

by  a  peal  of  laughter  somewhere  behind  me. 
I  looked  round,  but  could  not  discover  the 
hilarious  individual  from  whom  it  proceeded. 
After  a  few  moments  another  peal  rang  out 
louder  than  the  first,  mixed  with  it,  I  imagined, 
a  certain  strain  of  sarcasm.  This  nettled  me, 
and  I  jumped  up  determined  to  have  it  out 
with  the  impertinent  disturber  of  my  reverie. 
I  could  not  distinguish  a  sign  of  any  human 
being,  but  perched  on  a  tree  not  far  off  I 
espied  a  small  brown  bird  ;  then  I  knew  who  my 
scoffing  friend  was.  I  had  forgotten  all  about 
the  existence  of  '*  The  Laughing  Jackass  " — the 
only  name  I  know  him  by, — so  I  made  his  ac- 
quaintance on  his  native  heath  and  in  the  nearest 
approach  to  his  native  tongue  I  could  manage  at 
such  short  notice. 

We  paid  two  visits  to  Rockhampton,  one  on  the 
up  and  another  on  the  down  journey.  On  my 
arrival  at  the  hotel  the  first  time,  a  note  was 
handed  to  me  w^hich  had  been  left  by  the  waiter 
with  particular  instructions  that  it  should  be 
delivered  immediately.  I  was  prepared  to  bless 
a  ^'malgre."  The  note  was  from  a  Dr.  MacDonald 
I  had  known  in  London,  for  whose  wife  I  had  been 
able  to  do  a  slight  favour  ;  in  return  for  which  he 
begged  me  to  make  use  of  his  services  in  any  way 
they  might  prove  available.  Early  the  next  day 
I  received  a  visit  from  the  mayor,  who,  as  the 
mayoress  had  talked  so  much  about  me,  was  going 
to  honour  our  concert  with  his  patronage  and 


230      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

presence  in  spite  of  the  expense.  The  price  of 
the  stalls  had  been  raised  to  6s.,  the  usual  fee 
being  5s. 

My  medical  friend  and  ardent  admirer  had  been 
busy  for  some  time  exciting  his  connections  with 
glowing  accounts  of  the  wonderful  treat  in  store 
for  them.  I  dined  with  him  and  his  wife  and 
family  quietly  on  the  day  we  were  leaving  Rock- 
hampton.  After  dinner  he  confided  to  me  a 
*'  little  story/'  which  he  withheld  until  my 
departure,  fearing  it  might  have  caused  me  un- 
necessary annoyance.  He  induced  a  friend,  not 
at  all  musical,  to  accompany  him  to  our  first 
concert  at  his  (the  doctor's)  expense.  The 
gentleman  said  not  a  word  during  the  whole  of  the 
first  part.  They  retired  to  the  buffet  to  take  a 
drink  during  the  interval ;  still  not  a  word.  At 
last,  being  anxious  to  know  what  he  thought  of  the 
concert,  the  doctor  ventured  to  ask  him.  The 
reply  was,  ''  Oh  !  it's  very  fair."  But  not  a  word 
about  me  in  particular.  "  Well,"  said  the  doctor, 
''  what  do  you  think  of  Santley  ?  "  The  reply 
was  short  but  expressive,  ''If  you  call  that 
singing,  may  I  be  d d  !  " 

Our  second  visit  was  a  blank.  The  natives  had 
been  so  well  satisfied  the  first  time  they  did  not 
want  any  more.  There  was  scarcely  a  place 
taken.  So  as  the  Oculist  had  gone  on  straight  to 
Sydney,  for  reasons  which  I  will  relate,  and  the 
command  having  devolved  on  me,  I  ordered  the 
sale   of   tickets   to   be    stopped   and   the   money 


A  CONVENTUAL  CONCERT  231 

returned  to  those  few  sympathizing  friends  who 
had  already  booked  places. 

Being  detained  waiting  for  the  boat  to  carry  us 
back  to  Brisbane^  I  availed  myself  of  the  oppor- 
tunity to  visit  the  great  Mount  Morgan  gold  mine, 
and  invited  my  comrades  to  accompany  me.  We 
spent  a  very  pleasant  day,  interesting  on  account 
of  the  novelty  of  driving  through  "  the  bush/' 
where  there  is  no  regular  road,  bumping  over 
creeks,  wading  small  streams,  in  and  out  among 
the  trees,  always  on  the  alert  to  avoid  being 
scalped  by  the  lower  branches.  The  mine  is  also 
very  interesting  ;  there  is  no  burrowing  in  the 
bowels  of  the  earth  ;  the  ore  being  cut  down  from 
the  top  like  a  Stilton  cheese.  As  a  few  people 
expressed  disappointment,  I  organized  a  second 
concert  at  the  Convent,  admission  by  invitation 
only,  that  the  nuns  might  have  a  small  treat  and 
any  of  their  intimate  friends  and  pupils  they 
might  wish  to  invite. 

Though  the  public  was  cold,  the  place  itself  was 
uncomfortably  hot.  It  is  a  common  saying  that 
Rockhampton  is  only  separated  by  a  sheet  of 
brown  paper  from  the  lower  regions  ;  it  abounds 
in  mosquitoes  and  other  unpleasant  insects.  The 
only  redeeming  feature  I  found  there  was  the 
fruit,  of  which  they  have  a  great  variety  and 
quantity — both  tropical  and  non-tropical. 

We  sailed  direct  to  Brisbane,  whereon  rejoining 
us  the  Oculist  informed  me  he  had  been  to  Sydney 
in  order,  besides  other  business,  to  conclude  an 


232      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

arrangement  for  me  to  take  part  in  three  per- 
formances of  '*  Elijah/'  to  be  given  at  the  Winter 
Garden  in  conjunction  with  a  combination  of  all 
the  choral  societies  in  Sydney,  making  a  total  of 
between  five  and  six  hundred  chorus ;  the 
orchestra  would  number  about  eighty,  the  whole 
under  the  direction  of  Signor  Hasen.  The  engage- 
ment now  only  awaited  my  signature  to  complete 
it.  My  share  of  the  spoil  was  to  be  one-third  of 
the  net  proceeds.  The  terms  being  satisfactory,  I 
signed  the  contract.  The  business  arrangements 
were  to  be  left  in  the  hands  of  the  committee 
appointed  by  the  guarantors  of  the  undertaking. 

Later  on  (it  must  have  been  early  in  the  month 
of  July)  the  Oculist  confided  to  me  that  a  partner 
who  had  joined  him,  when  he  founded  his 
'*  Amusements  Bureau,'*  shortly  before  he  arranged 
the  business  of  my  tour  with  the  Adelaide 
syndicate,  had  turned  out  a  clog  rather  than  a 
help,  so  he  had  determined  on  a  dissolution  of  the 
existing  partnership ;  on  which  I  made  no 
remark,  as  at  the  time  it  did  not  interest  me. 
He  had  arranged  to  give  four  more  concerts  at 
Brisbane,  which  were  very  badly  advertised,  and, 
in  consequence,  very  meagrely  attended. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

Sydney — Three  Performances  of  "  Elijah  " — Chorus  and 
Orchestra — FalUng  Receipt  Barometer — Promise  to  Pay — 
Vagaries  of  Ocuhst  —  Elopement  —  Apprehension —  Job's 
Comforter — Miscarriage  of  Justice — An  Efficient  Partner — 
Christmas  Day — Hot  Weather — Melbourne  to  Auckland — 
Adverse  Winds — A  Surgical  Conductor — A  Fortnight  at 
Dunedin — An  Anonymous  Letter — Defendant  in  an  Action — 
Away  with  Melancholy. 

I  MUST  say  now  what  I  ought  to  have  said 
before,  that,  seeing  clearly  our  tour  was  a  pecuniary 
failure,  I  told  the  Oculist  I  did  not  intend  to 
exact  my  claim  on  him  until  such  time  as  he  was 
in  a  position  to  satisfy  it.  All  I  would  require 
until  then  was  that  he  would  frank  all  my  ex- 
penses of  travelling  and  living.  Another  error  of 
judgment  !  Let  it  pass.  As  I  said  before,  I  did 
not  expect  any  gain,  and  I  was  not  disappointed. 
I  had  satisfied  my  desire  to  see  as  much  of 
Australia  as  possible,  and  was  content.  We 
stopped  and  sang  at  several  places  on  our  way  to 
Sydney,  the  last  being  Newcastle,  where  we 
remained  a  week  and  gave  a  concert  each  evening. 
Saturday  was  to  have  been  a  holiday,  but  the 
Oculist  was  so  pertinacious  in  his  declaration  that 
Saturday  would  redeem  the  loss  incurred  during 
the  week,  that  on  his  handing  me  my  terms  in 
specie  I  yielded,  and  we  gave  a  *'  farewell " 
concert.  The  attendance  was  no  larger  than  on 
the  previous  evenings,  and  as  he  must  have  been 

233 


234      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

certain  such  would  be  the  case,  I  could  not  then 
understand  his  liberality. 

We  arrived  at  Sydney  in  due  course,  and  after 
passing  an  uncomfortable  night  at  another  hotel, 
I  went  back  to  my  rats,  cockroaches,  and  mos- 
quitos,  where  the  proprietor  managed  to  provide 
me  with  better  accommodation  than  on  my 
previous  visit.  At  the  first  rehearsal  of  **  Elijah," 
I  expressed  my  satisfaction  with  the  efficiency  of 
the  chorus.  Hasen  conducted  exceedingly  well, 
but  being  very  excitable,  without  any  experience 
of  oratorio,  he  made  sundry  bolts  which  a 
slight  pressure  of  the  bit  and  a  word  of  advice 
easily  rectified. 

The  choral  part  of  the  work  was  quite  up  to  the 
mark  ;  the  orchestral  part  much  below  it.  There 
was  no  organ,  and  its  substitute,  the  harmonium, 
was  of  no  use  in  such  a  crowd  of  performers. 
They  could  not  find  a  player  to  undertake  the 
first  bassoon,  so  the  part  was  played  on  the 
corno  hassctto.  All  the  bass  they  could 
muster  was  five  cellos  and  one  double  bass — 
inaudible  in  such  a  mass.  The  brass  might  have 
been  deleted  with  advantage  ! 

The  hall  was  densely  crowded  at  each  of  the 
performances.  At  the  first,  hundreds  were  turned 
away  from  the  doors.  Spite  of  no  apparent 
diminution  in  the  audiences,  the  receipts  from 
£500  on  the  first  night  fell  to  £400  on  the  second, 
and  to  £300  on  the  third.  Neither  the  Ocuhst 
nor  the  Organist — who  acted  as  his  aide-de-camp 


"ELIJAH"   AT  SYDNEY  235 

on  this  occasion — could  offer  any  explanation. 
Lord  Carrington,  to  whom  I  related  this  episode, 
in  reply  to  his  question  about  the  receipts,  was 
very  much  surprised,  and  said,  ''  Whoever  had 
charge  of  the  doors  had  not  attended  to  their 
business."  I  could  only  reply,  ''  That  as  well  as 
I  could  judge  from  my  position  on  the  platform, 
they  appeared  to  be  very  actively  employed." 

When  the  accounts  were  made  up,  my  share  of 
the  profits  were  found  to  amount  to  £513  some 
shillings,  which  sum  the  committee  entrusted  to 
the  Oculist  to  pay  over  to  me.  He  handed  me 
the  odd  £\3,  promising  to  give  me  a  cheque  for 
£S00  in  a  day  or  two  at  most.  As  the  cheque 
was  not  forthcoming  a  week  after,  I  demanded  it 
peremptorily.  I  allowed  ten  days  to  pass  before 
I  pressed  him  again,  when  he  informed  me  he  was 
very  sorry  to  keep  me  waiting,  that  he  and  his 
wife — who  had  joined  him  at  Sydney — were 
going  to  spend  the  next  day  (Saturday)  with 
some  friends  in  the  country,  and  on  the  following 
Monday  I  should  have  the  money  without  fail. 

On  Sunday  morning  I  passed  their  bedroom 
on  my  way  to  the  bath,  and  was  surprised  when 
I  noticed  the  sun's  rays  shining  through  the 
crevices  of  the  ill-fitting  door  ;  I  only  thought  it 
singular  that  sane  people  would  be  sleeping  with 
the  window  blind  drawn  up,  as  it  must  have  been, 
or  the  rays  of  the  sun  could  not  have  penetrated 
to  the  corridor.  I  merely  shrugged  my  shoulders, 
having  no  suspicion  of  evil.      Half-an-hour  after, 


236      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY  LIFE 

as  I  re-passed,  finding  there  had  been  no  change 
in  the  state  of  things,  I  knocked  quietly  at  the  door, 
intending  to  warn  the  inmates  of  the  danger 
they  incurred  from  suffocation  ;  receiving  no 
response,  I  knocked  louder,  with  a  like  result. 
I  then  turned  the  handle  of  the  lock,  found  the 
door  unfastened,  called  out,  still  no  response. 
I  then  walked  into  the  room.  The  bed  had  not 
been  used  ;  on  the  floor  and  in  the  cupboards 
was  a  litter  of  torn  paper,  empty  cardboard  boxes, 
and  other  rubbish,  the  drawers  empty ;  but 
carefully  deposited  on  the  top  of  the  drawers, 
in  such  a  way  that  it  could  not  escape  notice, 
was  the  Oculist's  pocket  companion,  the  New 
Testament,  which  had  ever  been  his  solace  in 
the  time  of  trouble  !  I  felt  sore  at  having  been 
duped,  but  I  had  only  myself  to  thank  for  it, 
and  I  sat  down  on  a  chair  and  indulged  in  a 
hearty  fit  of  laughter  at  my  superlative  stupidity. 
I  ran  down  and  informed  the  manager,  to  whom 
my  pious  friend  had  simply  stated  that  he  and 
his  wife  had  gone  away  for  the  day,  and  he  had 
been  under  the  impression  that  they  had  returned 
late,  after  he  had  retired  to  rest. 

On  Monday  morning,  no  tidings  of  the  ''  emblem 
of  piety  "  having  turned  up,  I  set  to  work  in 
earnest,  and  sent  for  a  detective  who  went  in 
search  of  the  lost  lamb,  and  returned  in  the 
afternoon  with  the  news  that  he  had  found  him. 
He  wished  to  know  what  further  instructions 
I  had  for  him.     As  I  could  not  find  the  solicitor 


MISCARRIAGE   OF  JUSTICE         237 

I  wanted,  to  instruct  me,  I  accompanied  the 
detective  to  the  poHce  court  to  confer  with  a 
magistrate  about  the  course  I  ought  to  pursue. 
After  considering  the  matter  for  some  time,  his 
Honour  gave  me  an  order  for  the  culprit's  deten- 
tion ;  accordingly  he  was  apprehended  and  placed 
in  the  lock-up,  where  he  remained  seven  days, 
during  which  time  I  had  a  visit  from  his  spouse, 
who  implored  me  to  release  him.  I  explained  to 
her  that  the  affair  being  now  in  the  hands  of  the 
police,  my  interference  would  be  of  no  avail. 

During  his  incarceration  I  succeeded  in  finding 
the  solicitor  I  had  been  in  search  of  (a  wrong 
name  had  been  given  me),  Mr.  Alfred  Cape,  a  very 
able  lawyer,  and,  as  I  afterwards  experienced,  as 
hospitable  as  able.  He  gave  me  the  encouraging 
information  that  I  had  been  wrongly  advised, 
that  I  should  have  issued  a  summons  for  his 
appearance  in  the  Civil  Court,  and  that  having 
made  it  a  criminal  action,  not  only  would  the 
case  be  dismissed,  but  I  had  rendered  myself 
liable  to  an  action  for  ''  malicious  prosecution," 
and  whatever  damages  the  jury  might  agree 
upon.  *'  However,"  he  added  (which  was  a  little 
consolation), ''  I  don't  think  he  will  dare  to  bring 
an  action,  and  I  am  certain  neither  his  present 
solicitors,  nor  any  other  in  Sydney,  will  take  up 
the  case."  I  then  imparted  to  Mr.  Cape  the 
conversation  I  had  with  the  Oculist  early  in  July 
respecting  his  intention  of  dissolving  the  partner- 
ship then  existing  between  himself  and  the  other 


238      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

person  of  whom  he  had  spoken  to  me.  Already 
arrived  at  nearly  the  end  of  September,    1889, 

I   had  just  received   a  letter,  bearing  date 

September,  begging  me  to  take  notice  that  the 
partnership  existing  between  the  Oculist  and  his 

partner   would    be  dissolved  on July,  1889, 

which  I  handed  over  to  Mr.  Cape  with  the  remark 
''  that  it  appeared  to  me  to  be  somewhat  absurd 
to  give  notice  at  the  end  of  September  of  a 
dissolution  of  partnership  which  was  to  take 
place  in  July."  He  said  very  little,  but  put  the 
document  carefully  by  *'  where  the  rats  could  not 
find  it." 

When  the  case  was  called  on,  before  entering 
the  police  court  I  had  a  little  chat  with  the 
magistrate  who  was  about  to  preside  (not  my 
adviser).  He  repeated  what  Mr.  Cape  had  already 
told  me,  that  I  had  made  a  mistake,  etc.,  and 
rendered  myself  liable,  etc.  He  likewise  was  of 
of  opinion  I  would  not  be  subjected  to  any  further 
annoyance,  at  any  rate  not  in  Sydney  ;  but  if 
I  returned  to  Melbourne,  as  the  laws  in  Victoria 
differ  from  those  in  New  South  Wales,  I  might 
have  some  trouble.  The  magistrate  had  no 
alternative  but  to  dismiss  the  case.  He  told  the 
defendant,  ''  You  are  free,  but  I  am  bound  to  add 
this  is  a  flagrant  case  of  miscarriage  of  justice  !  " 

Before  leaving  Sydney  I  had  an  interview  with 
my  solicitor,  who  told  me  he  was  about  to  proceed 
to  recover  my  £500  from  the  partner,  as  the  letter 
I  had  received  respecting  the  dissolution  was  not 


AN   ATTENTIVE   SOLICITOR         239 

worth  the  paper  it  was  written  on.  I  demurred, 
as  I  was  anxious  to  blot  out  the  whole  affair  from 
my  mind,  but  he  fortunately  insisted,  as  he  said, 
''  if  not  for  your  satisfaction,  I  will  do  so  for  my 
own  as  a  solicitor."  As  he  was  so  resolute,  I 
ultimately  gave  my  consent,  and  he  recovered 
the  money. 

I  had  not  seen  the  Organist  after  the  police 
court  episode,  until  we  met  by  chance  in  the 
street ;  he  expressed  himself  grieved  about  all 
the  trouble  I  had  been  put  to,  etc.,  and  was 
anxious  to  know  what  I  intended  doing.  "Had 
he  not  better  set  to  work  to  arrange  something?" 
Beyond  what  he  had  left  undone,  he  got  me  into 
a  quarrel  with  the  manager  of  the  Theatre  Royal, 

Sydney,  through  his ,  well,  I  will  call  it  ''lack 

of  business  capabihty."  I  informed  him  that 
I  had  had  such  unmistakable  proof  of  his  ability 
I  could  not  possibly  think  of  giving  him  any 
further  trouble,  but,  as  I  did  not  wish  to  throw 
him  on  the  world,  I  would  allow  him  five  per 
cent,  on  any  engagements  I  might  fulfil  within 
a  limited  period. 

Before  I  left  Sydney,  the  Mayor  placed  at  my 
disposal  the  splendid  new  music  haU,  to  give  a 
concert  for  my  own  benefit,  so  I  had  the  honour  of 
opening  it  publicly,  and  the  pleasure  of  recouping 
a  certain  portion  of  the  loss  I  sustained  on  my 
northern  tour,  for  which  act  of  extreme  generosity 
I  beg  to  offer  my  grateful  thanks  to  his  Worship. 
I  also  gave  a  concert  in  order  to  add  to  the  funds 


240      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

of  my  friends  the  Passionists,  and  another  was 
organized  by  a  very  staunch  friend  and  comrade 
for  my  especial  benefit,  at  which,  besides  the 
professional  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  kindly 
gave  me  their  services,  some  of  the  most  eminent 
amateurs  in  Sydney  assisted.  A  few  days  before 
this  concert  took  place,  I  received  the  sad 
intelligence  of  the  death  of  the  best  friend  I  ever 
had  on  earth,  my  dearly-loved  mother  ! — R.I. P.  ! 

I  returned  to  Melbourne  under  engagement 
to  Mr.  Robert  Smythe  (known  as  the  much- 
travelled)  for  concerts  in  Victoria  and  New  South 
Wales  and  South  Australia,  to  be  followed  after 
Christmas  by  a  tour  in  New  Zealand  and 
Tasmania. 

On  Christmas  day  I  sang  at  High  Mass  at  the 
Cathedral.  My  old  friend.  Dr.  Donnelly,  Bishop 
of  Canea,  celebrated,  and  afterwards  we  both 
dined  with  the  Archbishop,  Dr.  Carr,  and  the 
clergy  at  the  Presbytery.  It  was  a  piping  hot 
day;  we  dined  at  two ;  with  every  door  and  window 
wide  open,  the  thermometer  stood  at  about  100°. 
Of  course  we  must  dine  off  roast  beef,  which 
proved  no  ordinary  trial ;  but  when  a  huge  plum 
pudding  *'  all  in  blazes "  appeared,  I  nearly 
dropped  under  the  table.  From  the  beginning 
of  January  for  three  weeks  the  thermometer 
showed  130°  in  the  sun  and  from  93°  to  97°  in 
the  shade.  I  must  be  of  the  salamander  breed, 
for  I  felt  no  inconvenience  from  the  heat,  except 
on  one  occasion  only,  when  I  had  promised  to 


MARGARET    SANTLEY,    THE    AUTHOR'S    MOTHER 


OFF  TO   AUCKLAND  241 

dine  with  some  friends  on  the  other  side  of  the 
river,  about  two  miles  away  from  my  lodgings. 
I  turned  out  armed  with  an  umbrella  about  one 
o'clock,  to  walk,  as  at  that  hour  there  was  no 
other  way  of  reaching  my  destination  ;  I  was 
beaten,  and  had  to  turn  back  ;  the  sun  looked 
like  a  glowing  copper  button  of  large  dimensions, 
set  in  molten  metal,  and  its  heat  penetrated  so 
deep  I  expected  to  find  my  melted  marrow  in  the 
form  of  dripping  in  my  shoes. 

During  the  hot  weather  I  sang  in  the 
''  Messiah  ''  one  night.  I  really  thought  at  times 
I  should  dissolve  entirely  ;  the  windows  could  not 
be  opened  for  some  reason  ;  the  room  was  like 
a  hot-house,  the  water  literally  poured  down  my 
body  into  my  shoes,  and  I  was  almost  poisoned 
by  the  fumes  of  eucalyptus  proceeding  from  one 
of  the  orchestral  players  seated  close  by  me. 

I  was  to  leave  for  New  Zealand  early  in 
February.  Mr.  Oculist  had  learned  this  fact,  and, 
determined  to  have  the  start  of  me,  served  me 
with  notice  of  action  for  '*  malicious  prosecution,'' 
laying  his  damages  at  five  thousand  pounds ! 
This  caused  me  great  annoyance,  as  I  was  afraid 
it  might  interfere  with  my  engagement  ;  however, 
I  was  assured  by  the  solicitor  who  undertook 
to  conduct  my  case,  that  the  action  could  not 
come  on  until  July  or  August. 

The  voyage  from  Melbourne  to  Auckland  took 
eight  days ;  the  vessel  was  small  and  we 
encountered  a  strong  east  wind  almost  the  whole 

i&— (aa86) 


242      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

way.  One  day  (twenty-four  hours)  we  made 
only  twenty-seven  knots  ;  the  passage  was  any- 
thing but  comfortable.  I  had  a  berth  with  three 
others  in  a  cabin  constructed  to  hold  two,  and 
one  of  my  companions  was  sea-sick  the  whole 
voyage.  I  had  hardly  set  foot  on  land,  when  to 
my  chagrin  I  found  I  had  a  severe  cold  in  my 
throat,  on  account  of  which  the  concerts  had  to 
be  postponed.  I  consulted  two  medical  men, 
neither  of  whom  could  render  me  any  assistance  ; 
one  of  them  to  whom  I  confided  that  I  was  a  gouty 
subject,  and  that  probably  gout  impeded  my 
recovery,  went  off  to  his  club  and  informed  the 
members  present  that  I  was  suffering  from  gout 
in  the  throat,  and,  in  his  opinion,  should  not  be 
able  to  sing  for  some  considerable  time.  Smythe, 
on  hearing  this  piece  of  news,  administered  a  pill 
to  him  that  proved  an  effectual  cure  for  loquacity. 
Thrown  on  my  own  resources,  I  adopted  my  own 
remedies,  and  soon  recovered  the  use  of  my  voice. 
With  the  aid  of  the  ''  Choral  Society ''  and 
what  orchestra  could  be  mustered,  we  performed 
''  Elijah  ''  and  the  *'  Messiah.''  The  chorus  was 
good,  the  orchestra  limp,  and  the  conductor  what 
we  commonly  designate  ''  a  caution.''  He  came 
to  run  through  the  two  works  with  me,  and 
suggested  so  many  cuts  that  at  last  I  asked 
him  if  it  would  not  be  better  perhaps  to  leave 
'*  Elijah  "  out  altogether  ;  to  which  he  mildly 
remarked  that,  ''  we  must  cut  something."  He 
reached  his  climax  at  the  air,  ''  Is  not  His  word 


AN   ANONYMOUS   LETTER  243 

like  a  fire?"  which  he  declared  must  be  omitted. 
''Why  on  earth  shall  we  leave  that  out?"  said  I, 
''  If  I  don't  sing  it,  the  people  will  throw  the 
benches  at  me."  ''  Oh/'  he  replied  very  piteously, 
"  it  goes  so  fast  I  "  For  the  same  reason  he  would 
have  insisted  on  leaving  out  ''Why  do  the  nations  ?  " 
in  the  "  Messiah."  He  was  a  great  German 
professor,  and  held  the  "  Chair  of  Music  "  at  the 
College  or  University. 

On  the  passage  from  Auckland  to  Lyttelton 
(for  Christchurch)  I  wrote  the  first  few  chapters 
of  my  former  book,  Student  and  Singer.  I  visited 
several  places  in  New  Zealand  ;  at  Nelson,  a  very 
pleasant  little  town  (usually  known  as  Sleepy 
Hollow),  we  had  a  repetition  of  Townsville  and 
Charters  Towers  ;  the  weather  was  hot,  the  hall, 
a  wooden  construction,  even  with  windows  open, 
was  stuffy.  The  room  was  crowded  and,  so  many 
people  were  turned  away,  we  gave  a  second  concert, 
when  the  audience  assembled  outside  the  room 
and  enjoyed  the  concert,  gratis.  At  Dunedin, 
where  an  Exhibition  was  being  held,  I  sang 
for  a  fortnight  in  the  music  hall  of  the  building. 
We  gave  five  concerts  and  three  oratorios : 
"  Elijah,"  "  The  Messiah,"  and  "  The  Creation," 
very  creditably  performed  ;  we  made  our  way 
thence  to  "  The  Bluff,"  with  sundry  stops  on  our 
way  ;  then  crossed  over  to  Tasmania  and  gave 
concerts  at  Hobart  and  Launceston.  The  morning 
after  our  first  concert  at  Hobart,  I  received  an 
anonymous  letter,  of  which  the  following  contains 


244      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

the  purport,  if  not  the  exact  words  in  which  it 
was  expressed. 

Sir, 

Will  you  please  inform  me  if  you  were  singing  your  best 
last  night. 

One  of  the  Audience. 

To  my  regret  I  could  not  reply,  as  the  writer 
did  not  furnish  me  with  either  his  name  or  address. 
As  there  was  no  work  stirring  when  I  returned 
to  Melbourne,  I  accepted  an  invitation  from  my 
friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stevens,  to  take  up  my 
abode  with  them  at  Adelaide.  I  passed  a  very 
pleasant  time,  employing  myself  with  my 
Reminiscences,  and  taking  exercise  in  the  open 
air.  I  remained  with  them  nearly  three  months, 
when  I  was  signalled  back  to  Melbourne  '*  to  be 
put  on  trial,"  This  being  my  first  appearance  in 
a  law  court  in  the  character  of  ''  defendant," 
I  was  naturally  very  anxious,  and,  being  unable 
to  settle  to  any  work,  found  time  hang  heavily. 
After  much  delay,  the  trial  came  on  ;  I  resolved  I 
would  not  pay  a  farthing  of  damages. 

The  proceedings  commenced  with  the  junior 
counsel  for  the  plaintiff  stating  the  case  ;  while 
this  was  going  on  I  saw  his  leader  holding  a 
confabulation  with  my  leader,  who,  leaning  over 
to  me,  asked  me  if  I  could  not  see  my  way  to  make 
a  compromise  and  finish  the  matter.  ''  Though 
I  believe  I  have  a  good  case,"  he  said,  ''  I  have 
that  old  gentleman  on  the  bench  and  those  six 


'^  EXPERIENTIA   DOCET '^  245 

men  of  various  ages  in  the  jury  box  to  satisfy, 
and  a  trifle  may  turn  them  one  way  or  other." 
''  I  will  not  give  a  cent,  by  way  of  damages/* 
I  sternly  replied,  ''  but,  as  I  am  heartily  sick  of 
the  business,  I  will  make  the  plaintiff's  wife  a 
present  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  if  that 
will  settle  it."  The  judge  was  asked  to  suspend 
the  trial  for  ten  minutes,  as  there  was  a  probability 
of  a  settlement  of  the  action  out  of  court,  which 
he  cheerfully  acceded  to. 

My  offer  was  accepted,  to  my  great  relief ;  my 
solicitor  gave  me  a  ''  blowing  up,"  but,  as  he  was 
not  *'  standing  in  my  shoes,"  I  received  it  without 
flinching.  The  plaintiff's  leader — who  was  one 
of  my  great  admirers — invited  me  to  take  a  glass 
of  wine  with  him  ;  we  drank  to  our  mutual  good 
health  and  prosperity ;  and  after  a  friendly 
leave-taking,  I  strolled  to  the  "  Cafe  Frangais," 
ate  a  good  lunch,  and  with  the  smoke  of  a  good 
cigar  puffed  away  all  recollections  of  my  recent 
annoyances.  In  taking  leave  of  the  Oculist, 
I  have  little  to  thank  him  for,  but  that  little  has 
been  of  use  to  me.  By  his  lessons  in  the  art  of 
''  eye-opening,"  I  have  learned  to  keep  my 
optics  sufficiently  wide  open  without  having 
recourse  to  surgical  aid. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

Last  Visit  to  Sydney — Hospitable  Friends — Lunch  with  Cardinal 
Moran — Melbourne  Again — Engagement  for  Canada — The 
Organist  on  my  Track — Broken  Hill — A  Dismal  Hotel — Fare- 
well Concert  at  Adelaide — Farewell  to  Australia — Danger 
attending  Polite  Attentions — Advice  respecting  "  Curios  " — 
"  Tipping." 

I  MADE  arrangements  to  pay  a  farewell  visit 
to  Sydney,  where  during  my  stay  I  was  the  guest 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Alfred  Cape.  Their  house, 
surrounded  by  extensive  grounds,  situated  far 
away  from  the  bustle  of  the  city,  I  found  a  more 
than  welcome  retreat  after  the  state  of  turmoil 
I  had  lived  in  for  some  time.  I  had  nothing 
particular  to  do,  and  did  it  well.  Close  to  them 
I  had  other  hospitable  friends :  Sir  Frederick 
Darley,  Chief  Justice  of  New  South  Wales,  and 
Lady  Darley  and  family,  of  whose  kindness  I 
would  speak,  only  all  who  have  ever  come  into 
contact  with  them  know  it  as  well  as  I  do,  and 
more  intimate  acquaintances  than  I,  better ; 
also  Mrs.  Frederick  Cape  and  family,  and  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Henry  Austin  (since  called  to  her  rest,  which 
assuredly  she  deserved,  if  mortal  ever  did)  ;  in 
fact,  the  neighbourhood  as  I  knew  it  abounded 
in  hospitable  mansions. 

Cardinal  Moran  gave  a  lunch  the  day  preceding 
that  of  my  return  to  Melbourne,  to  which  many 
guests  were  bidden  to  join  in  wishing  me  "  God 
speed."     His  Eminence,  in  proposing  my  health, 

246 


LUNCH   WITH   CARDINAL  MORAN     247 

made  a  most  eloquent  and  touching  speech, 
alluding  to  some  occasions  on  which  I  had  assisted 
in  the  celebration  of  the  Holy  Sacrifice  at  the 
Cathedral,  and  lamenting  the  troubles  I  had 
experienced  in  the  course  of  my  wanderings  in 
Australasia  ;  ''  troubles  to  which/'  he  said,  ''  all 
they  who  are  in  earnest  are  subjected  by  the 
Divine  Will  for  their  good."  I  returned  thanks 
as  well  as  I  could,  overcome  by  his  affectionate 
expressions  of  esteem  and  friendship. 

Immediately  after  my  return  to  Melbourne, 
I  received  a  cablegram  from  Vert,  my  agent  in 
London,  offering  me  an  engagement  for  a  series 
of  concerts  in  Canada  and  the  United  States  in 
the  spring  of  1891,  to  which  I  replied  accepting 
the  offer.  I  then  began  to  think  of  returning 
home.  I  knew  the  joys  which  awaited  me  there 
would  not  lose  any  of  their  brightness  by  a  little 
longer  delay  ;  so  I  proposed  to  make  my  journey 
an  interesting  holiday,  as  far  as  means  would 
allow,  without  keeping  anxious  hearts  too  long 
in  suspense.  My  acquaintance  in  Malta,  Major 
Plunkett,  told  me  I  ought  to  visit  Cairo,  if  ever 
I  had  an  opportunity,  and  another  acquaintance 
in  Melbourne  recommended  me  to  extend  my 
wanderings  to  Jerusalem,  as  it  was  very  little 
out  of  the  way.  My  desires  coincided  with  these 
propositions,  so  I  adopted  them.  In  order  to 
make  a  complete  change  of  route  for  my  return 
journey,  I  took  my  passage  from  Adelaide  by  the 
French  (Messageries  Imperiales)  steamer. 


248      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

The  Organist  got  wind  of  my  departure,  and 
sent  me  in  a  little  bill — for  my  fare,  which  I  had 
already  paid  out  and  home,  and  some  small 
expenses  of  travel,  which  he  must  have  forgotten, 
were  included  in  the  sum  paid  him  by  the 
syndicate,  for  our  travelling  expenses  during  my 
engagement  with  them.  I  consulted  my  solicitor, 
who  told  me  that  the  law  allowed  the  Organist 
power  to  detain  me  until  the  bill  were  settled 
in  or  out  of  court,  and  as  I  wished,  and  had  made 
arrangements  to  get  off  immediately,  I  had  better 
make  a  compromise  and  settle  the  matter.  This 
cost  me  another  £100. 

I  related  this  episode  to  a  mutual  acquaintance, 
who  advised  me  ''  if  I  should  ever  go  far  afield 
again,  to  provide  myself  with  a  wet  nurse  to  take 
care  of  me  !  ''  I  don't  think  he  was  far  wrong  ! 
I  had  still  about  a  month  to  wait  for  my  ship, 
which  Smythe,  always  on  the  qui  vive,  insisted  on 
turning  to  account ;  as  I  did  not  care  to  remain 
idle,  I  reckoned  I  might  as  well  turn  an  honest 
penny,  too.  We  entered  into  an  agreement  for 
a  limited  number  of  entertainments.  The  only 
visitation  we  made  that  I  need  notice  was  at 
Broken  Hill  silver  mine,  where  we  were  joined 
by  the  Rev.  Charles  Clarke,  an  admirable  reciter 
and  lecturer,  a  most  pleasant  companion,  and  the 
most  inveterate  smoker  I  ever  knew,  Mario 
included. 

Our  entertainment  consisted  of  songs  and 
recitations,    interspersed   with    pianoforte    solos, 


FAREWELL   TO   AUSTRALIA         249 

played  by  Mr.  Alfred  Mortimer,  a  brother-in-law 
of  C.  J.  Stevens,  who  also  acted  as  my  accompanist. 

We  remained  at  Broken  Hill  a  week  or  ten 
days.  I  would  not  swear,  but  I  think  seriously , 
I  would  not  pass  such  a  period  there  again  if  they 
gave  me  the  whole  mine  as  a  bribe.  The  hotel 
was  built  by  the  member  of  the  Adelaide  syndicate 
I  described  as  being  an  earnest  dealer  in  mining 
scrip  and  his  brother,  so  he  himself  told  me  ; 
and  that  at  a  banquet  with  which  the  hotel  was 
opened,  they  disposed  of  one  thousand  bottles 
of  champagne  at  a  guinea  a  bottle.  It  was  the 
most  ''  sublimely  dismal  "  habitation  I  ever  slept 
in.  The  town  consisted  of  a  single  street  of 
booths  and  irregular  buildings ;  there  were 
projected  streets  marked  out  which  may  be  now 
built  up,  with  additions  to  their  number.  Each 
two  or  three  days  I  noticed,  on  my  way  to  the 
church,  a  new  house  (if  a  large  iron  box  can  be  so 
described)  erected  and  inhabited.  The  whole 
occupied  a  space  in  a  desert  region,  where  water 
was  a  luxury  ;  what  little  there  was,  the  mine 
had  made  its  own.  I  was  told  that  during  the 
summer  preceding  my  visit,  the  inhabitants  who 
wanted  to  have  a  wash,  had  to  pay  half-a-crown 
a  bottle  for  soda  water  in  which  to  perform  their 
ablutions  ;  there  was  scarcely  a  blade  of  grass 
visible,  and  not  a  single  tree.  I  need  not  say  I 
wiped  its  dust  off  my  shoes  with  joy. 

I  had  a  ''farewell"  concert  at  Adelaide,  in  the 
hall  of  the  Winter  Garden ;  the  house  was  packed. 


250      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

and  my  share  of  the  receipts  satisfactory. 
I  cannot  take  a  Hngering  ''  farewell/'  it  would 
not  do  for  ''a  roving  blade."  I  will  only  say, 
the  friends  I  made  in  Australia  whom  I  can  never 
forget,  were,  with  few  exceptions,  Australians, 
born  and  bred  ;  and  that  the  acquaintances  I 
made  whom  I  strive  to  forget,  were,  without 
exception,  importations  from  the  mother 
country. 

We  touched  at  the  island  of  Seychelles,  where, 
as  we  had  a  sick  soldier  on  board,  the  quarantine 
officers  would  not  allow  any  of  our  passengers 
to  land.  Arrived  at  Suez  I  engaged  a  dragoman 
who,  for  a  consideration,  undertook  to  hold  me 
safe  from  any  other  marauders ;  he  kept  his 
word,  and  I  verily  believe  saved  my  life.  When 
I  arrived  at  the  hotel  I  was  choking  with  thirst, 
and  as  there  were  some  men  about  I  took  for 
waiters,  I  called  out,  ''  Can  anyone  here  find  me 
a  bottle  of  soda  water  ? "  A  young  fellow 
responded  with,  ''  You  come  along  with  me." 
I  followed  him  some  distance  when  I  heard  a 
voice  bellowing:     ''Where  you  go?     You  come 

back  !     Dat  fellow  d n  thief,  he  kill  you  for 

de  money !  "  I  ran  back,  when  my  monitor 
"  rounded  on  me  "  for  leaving  him,  and  informed 
me  that  my  polite  friend  would  have  led  me  into 
the  slums,  then  robbed  and  murdered  me  !  Wet 
nurse  evidently  wanted  here  ! 

I  left  next  day  for  Cairo,  and  got  off  easier  than 
I  expected.     I  did  not  pay  dear  for  my  experience 


ADVICE  TO   CURIO-BUYERS        251 

of  Suez  and  the  amount  of  attention  my  guide 
paid  me. 

I  found  it  was  necessary,  to  avoid  making 
pleasure  a  labour,  to  engage  a  dragoman  ;  a  very 
handsome  fellow  was  provided  for  me  by  Messrs. 
Cook,  who  trotted  me  about  in  every  direction. 
I  was  on  my  feet  most  of  the  day,  but  never  felt 
in  the  least  fatigued,  it  was  such  a  delight  to  me 
to  find  myself  at  last  among  the  * 'ancients."  In 
England  they  can  manufacture  brass  bowls  to  be 
stamped  in  Egypt,  they  can  manufacture  daggers, 
swords,  etc.,  to  be  converted  into  ancient  arms 
at  Damascus ;  they  can  produce  all  sorts  of 
ancient  knick-knacks,  such  as  idols,  ''scarafaggi," 
etc.,  but  they  cannot  manufacture  pyramids, 
nor  set  them  up  if  they  could  manufacture  them  ; 
they  cannot  manufacture  a  statue  of  Rameses 
from  a  solid  block  of  marble  weighing  about  nine 
hundred  tons  ;  they  might  cast  a  sphinx  in  iron 
(I  have  no  idea  what  they  could  do),  but  they 
could  not  manufacture  one  such  as  the  Egyptians 
placed  by  the  great  pyramids.  There  are  heaps 
of  real  things  to  see,  and  I  would  advise  the 
unsophisticated,  such  as  myself,  to  engage  a  guide 
recommended  by  trustworthy  people  like  Cooks, 
and  spend  their  time  in  seeing  them,  and  not 
waste  time  on  a  lot  of  Brummagem  ware  you 
could  purchase  for  a  hundred  to  five  hundred 
(perhaps  more)  per  cent,  less  in  England. 

If  a  Damascus  dealer  in  antique  curiosities 
offers  you  a  crusader's  dagger  or  sword  of  welded 


252      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

steel  wire,  damasked,  with  a  richly-carved  hilt, 
etc.,  etc.,  for  five  or  ten  pounds,  unless  you  are 
one  of  those  eager  enthusiasts  trusting  in  their 
perceptive  faculty,  clear  out  of  his  shop  at ' '  double 
quick,"  or  sure  as  you're  alive  he  will  ''  stick  " 
you  with  the  implement  he  offers  a  bargain. 
At  Colombo,  on  my  voyage  out  to  Australia,  we 
were  boarded  by  a  gang  of  native  dealers  in  Indian 
jewellery.  One  of  them  picked  me  out  as  a 
probable  customer  ;  he  held  on  a  wire  about  a 
dozen  gold  rings,  each  garnished  with  a  finely 
coloured  precious  stone  ;  though  not  a  buyer  of 
such  articles,  I  asked  what  he  wanted  for  them. 
''  They  are  very  cheap,"  he  said,  "  only  five 
pounds  each."  I  confess  I  am  a  greenhorn,  as  re- 
gards the  value  of  jewellery,  but  not  quite  so  green 
*'  that  the  cows  might  mistake  me  for  grass." 
After  examining  them,  I  made  him  a  bid  of  four 
or  five  shillings  for  the  lot ;  he  muttered  some- 
thing beginning  with  a  big  B — probably  caught 
on  the  wing  as  it  was  escaping  from  a  British 
marine  hive — and  walked  indignantly  away  ;  but 
afterwards,  when  he  had  blown  off  steam  a  little, 
offered  me  one  for  five  shillings,  which  I  declined. 
At  all  the  places  where  a  ship  stops  to  coal,  or 
for  other  business,  the  game  of  ''  sheep -shearing  " 
is  carried  on  ;  travellers  seem  to  think  that  they 
can  procure  an  article  ''  on  the  spot "  much 
cheaper  than  they  can  at  home,  and  that  the 
article  purchased  must  be  of  better  quality  than 
when   imported   into   England ;    the   fact   being, 


BARGAINS   AT  SEAPORTS  253 

that  the  article  is  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  of 
inferior  quahty,  and  the  price  demanded,  double. 
To  avoid  being  taken  in,  people  who  cannot 
judge  of  the  quality  of  an  article,  or  who  have 
no  experience  in  making  bargains,  ought  never  to 
attempt  to  purchase  from  the  unmitigated  ruffians 
who  are  allowed  by  the  owners  of  passenger 
ships  to  rifle  the  pockets  of  credulous  voyagers. 

When  we  stopped  at  Madeira,  the  last  time  I 
sailed  to  the  Cape,  out  of  curiosity,  I  kept  close 
watch  on  what  I  can  only  designate  this  ''  nefarious 
traffic."  I  saw  many  rascally  bargains  concluded. 
I  had  no  deck-chair,  and  as  I  did  not  wish  to 
interfere  with  the  convenience  of  other  passengers, 
I  thought  I  had  better  buy  one  while  the  oppor- 
tunity offered.  I  looked  around  and  took  note 
of  one  I  thought  would  suit  my  form  and 
convenience,  and  asked  the  price  of  some  others. 
But  my  dealer  was  "up  to  snuff,"  and  waited  his 
opportunity ;  he  had  seen,  though  I  thought 
innocently  I  had  managed  my  little  ''  ruse " 
well,  that  I  had  my  eye  on  that  particular  chair, 
so  when  I  asked  him  what  he  wanted  for  it,  he 
replied,  **  Eighteen  shillings."  I  walked  away  ; 
when  the  first  signal  was  given  for  the  merchants 
to  clear  out,  I  strolled  back  ;  mine  was  prepared, 
and  called  out,  ''  You  shall  have  the  chair  for 
seventeen  shillings."  ''  No,"  said  I  jauntily, 
''  ril  give  you  eleven."  He  began  a  long  tirade, 
which  I  cut  short  by  again  walking  away.  The 
second  signal  sounded,  and  I  strolled  back  again. 


254      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

He  then  offered  his  chair  for  something  less. 
A  fellow-passenger  near  me  suggested  that  I 
should  not  succeed  in  my  bargain  ;  I  persevered 
calmly,  and  when  the  last  signal  sounded,  I  carried 
off  my  purchase  in  triumph,  for  which  I  paid  what  I 
offered  at  first,  eleven  shillings,  confident  that  the 
dealer  had  secured  a  good  profit  out  of  that  sum. 

I  saw  people  taken  in  right  and  left,  buying 
articles  imported  from  England  which  they  could 
have  bought  on  much  better  terms  in  Regent 
Street.  If  the  passengers  choose  to  make 
purchases  on  shore,  they  are  alone  responsible 
for  their  errors  of  judgment ;  but  I  would 
suggest  that  traffic  on  board  ought  not  to  be 
countenanced  by  owners  of  passenger  ships,  and 
that  no  dealers  such  as  I  speak  of,  or  touters  of 
any  description,  ought  to  be  allowed  to  board 
their  ships  to  exercise  their  arts  upon  the  unwary. 
If  there  are  passengers  who  really  want  to  make 
purchases,  there  is  in  most  cases  ample  time  for 
them  to  go  on  shore  ;  to  avoid  the  exorbitant 
demands  of  boatmen  it  would  be  easy  for  every 
company  to  have  at  its  disposal  a  sufficient 
number  of  boats  to  be  hired  at  a  fixed  tariff 
rigorously  enforced. 

Whilst  airing  one  grievance  I  may  as  well  add 
another  in  this  place.  ''  Tipping  "  stewards,  etc., 
has  become  a  heavy  tax  on  the  generality  of  sea 
travellers.  I  quite  agree  that  an  attentive 
steward  is  entitled  to  an  addition  to  his  pay, 
and     there    are    few    travellers    who    would    not 


VOYAGE   EXPENSES 


255 


willingly  ''  tip  "  their  stewards.  But  the  system 
has  become  a  gross  abuse  of  generosity.  To  rich 
passengers  it  is  of  little  consequence  what  they 
give  ;  but  those  to  whom  money  is  no  object 
are  the  minority  ;  we  are  not  all  rich,  and  we  are 
obliged  to  exercise  our  generosity  according  to 
our  means.  A  voyage  to  Australia  costs,  first-class 
out  and  home,  £105  ;  why  should  a  passenger 
have  to  spend  twenty  per  cent,  extra  on  ''  tips  " 
to  stewards,  etc.  ?  To  say  the  least,  it  is  unjust. 
Of  late  years  a  certain  number  of  stewards 
must  be  able  to  take  part  in  the  band — an  addition 
to  the  noise  and  confusion  which  the  British 
passenger  creates;  to  me,  personally,  a  perfect 
nuisance — for  which  a  collection  is  allowed  to  be 
made  towards  the  close  of  the  voyage.  There  is 
a  collection  for  the  Sailors*  Orphan  Institution  ; 
then  there  are  the  bedroom  and  saloon  stewards, 
and  the  bath-room  steward's  tips  ;  a  subscription 
to  the  amusements'  fund  ;  a  donation  to  the  head 
steward,  and  smaller  demands  on  the  passenger's 
purse.  The  list  I  subjoin  is,  I  believe,  not 
exaggerated : — 


Bed  Room  Steward     . . 

..     £1 

Saloon              „ 

..       1 

Bath-room 

10s. 

Sailors'  Orphan  Asylum 

..       1 

Amusements'  Fund 

..       2 

Head  Steward 

..       2 

Small  Donations 

10s. 

Band 

..       2 

£10 

256      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

For  each  voyage,  out  and  home,  making  a  total 
of  twenty  per  cent,  added  to  the  cost  of  the  two 
voyages.  In  all  phases  of  trafhc  the  ''  tipping 
system  "  prevails  ;  in  sea  travelling,  in  my  opinion, 
it  prevails  to  the  extent  of  abuse,  to  curb  which 
surely  some  remedy  might  be  found. 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

Cleopatra's  Needle — E.  L.  Blanchard — Visit  from  my  Enemy — 
Mount  of  Olives — Ride  to  Bethlehem — A  Boating  Excursion 
— Back  in  London — Great  Changes. 

I  REMAINED  a  few  days  at  Alexandria.  I  paid 
a  visit  to  Cleopatra's  Needle,  and  was  surprised 
and  disgusted  with  the  filth  which  surrounded 
its  base, 

I  had  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  telegraph  office,  to 
reply  to  a  letter  which  required  an  immediate 
answer,  and  there  I  found  a  friend.  The  employe 
who  attended  me  stared  so  hard  that  I  made  up 
my  mind  he  would  ''  know  me  again."  When 
I  handed  him  my  telegram,  instead  of  carrying 
it  off,  he  wrote  something  on  a  scrap  of  paper, 
which  he  handed  to  me  saying,  ''  Do  you  know 
that  name  ?  "  "  Of  course  I  do,"  said  I, ''  Why  ?  " 
*'  I  am  a  nephew  of  his,"  he  replied.  The  name 
was  E.  L.  Blanchard,  the  author  of  many  splendid 
pantomimes  produced  at  Drury  Lane,  and  member 
of  a  family  of  great  celebrity  in  the  theatrical 
world.  We  '*  chummed,"  of  course,  but  as  my 
stay  was  very  short,  I  only  saw  him  once 
again,  when  I  called  to  shake  hands  and  say 
good-bye. 

The  short  sea  passage  to  Jaffa,  about  twenty- 
eight  hours,  was  very  pleasant,  and  when  we 
arrived  the  sea,  for  a  wonder,  was  perfectly  calm, 

257 

17— (2286) 


258      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

a  circumstance  which  I  was  told  by  our  chief 
officer,  happens  about  once  in  a  hundred  times. 
Cooks'  agent  took  me  in  charge  ;  had  it  not  been 
for  him  I  should  have  had  some  serious  trouble, 
for  my  passport  did  not  bear  the  Turkish  visi. 
He  displayed  a  florid-looking  stamp,  I  think  the 
German,  and  presented  me  as  Mr.  Santley, 
the  celebrated  singer,  at  which  the  Turk  looked 
very  wise  and  nodded  his  approval,  so  we  passed 
on.  Within  an  hour  I  was  on  my  way  to 
Jerusalem,  accompanied  by  a  reliable  dragoman. 
It  was  about  four  p.m.  when  we  started,  so  we  had 
to  put  up  for  the  night  at  Ramleh,  where  I  had 
a  little  insight  into  the  mode  of  life  in  Moses'  time. 
We  arrived  next  evening  at  Jerusalem,  too  late 
to  do  any  sight -seeing,  even  had  I  been  so  inclined. 
The  only  other  visitors  at  the  hotel  were  an  elderly 
English  lady  and  another  younger,  her  companion. 
They  were  very  affable,  so  after  dinner  I  spent 
a  pleasant  evening  in  gossip. 

The  following  morning  I  began  my  round  of 
visits,  which  I  will  not  attempt  to  describe.  I  am 
impressionable,  but  not  emotional.  I  may  not 
have  trod  on  the  exact  spot,  but  I  was  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  the  ground  on  which  our 
Saviour  suffered  willingly  the  agony  of  a  cruel, 
ignominious  death  for  the  redemption  of  the 
world.  His  murderers  included.  I  can  only  say 
I  was  deeply,  awfully  impressed. 

Sight -seeing  I  was  never  partial  to  ;  I  was  in 
the  tyrant  hands  of  an  energetic  dragoman,  so 


RIDE   TO   BETHLEHEM  259 

I  had  no  alternative  but  to  go  wherever  he  might 
will  to  take  me.  I  awoke  one  morning  with  a 
sharp  attack  of  gout.  I  found  my  shoe  had, 
during  the  night,  become  a  very  tight  fit.  I  had 
accepted  an  invitation  to  dine  early  with  the 
English  doctor ;  I  had  also  arranged  to  go  to 
Bethany  by  carriage  and  walk  back  to  Jerusalem 
over  the  Mount  of  Olives.  I  was  in  pain,  but  I 
knew  if  I  sent  for  the  doctor  he  would  forbid 
the  walk,  so  we  started  off,  Mr.  Dragoman  highly 
amused  with  my  occasional  grimaces — he  thought 
it  great  fun.  I  certainly  did  penance  for  some 
of  my  sins;  kicking  loose  stones,  of  which  there 
is  a  plentiful  supply  on  the  Mount,  with  a  gouty 
toe,  is  trying.  I  dined  with  the  doctor,  who  after 
I  had  ended  my  meal,  ordered  me  medicine,  and 
proper  diet,  and  censured  me  severely  for  risking 
such  a  walk  before  consulting  him.  My  drago- 
man, when  he  returned  with  the  medicine  I  sent 
him  for,  having  learned  the  nature  of  my  malady, 
was  very  penitent  for  the  levity  he  had  dis- 
played and  hoped  there  was  no  fear  of  its  ending 
fatally. 

We  had  a  ride  to  Bethlehem,  at  least  he  had  ; 
it  would  be  difficult  to  describe  my  performance. 
As  my  horsemanship  was  exercised  chiefly  in  my 
youth  on  a  rocking  horse,  it  is  decidedly  feeble. 
I  gave  my  guide  particular  instructions  to  be 
sure  I  should  be  provided  with  a  quiet  animal. 
He  was  quiet  beyond  a  doubt ;  no  artifice  I  was 
capable  of,  no  exertion  on  my  part  could  induce 


260      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

him  to  move  at  more  than  a  deUberate  walk. 
He  had  a  pair  of  shaky  legs,  and  when  we  were 
clambering  over  the  rocky  road  by  the  pools  of 
Solomon,  I  kept  a  sharp  look  out  for  any  soft 
place  I  might  tumble  on,  in  case  I  was  suddenly 
ejected  from  the  saddle.  I  arrived  safe  at  the 
high  road.  '*  Now/'  I  said  to  my  guide,  *'  I  have 
had  enough  of  riding,  I  will  do  a  little  walking 
to  stretch  my  legs."  "  But,"  he  replied,  '*  we 
have  seven  miles  to  go."  *'  No  matter  if  it^s 
seventy,"  said  I ;  ''  I  have  had  enough  of  wooden 
horses  for  the  present,  and  I  intend  to  perform 
the  remainder  of  our  journey  on  Shanks' s 
galloway."  ''  Ah,"  he  remarked  with  a  snigger, 
'*  you  are  not  much  of  a  rider  !  "  **  Not  on  such 
a  horse  as  that,"  I  replied  haughtily  ;  ''on  my 
own  full-bred  steed,  seated  in  my  own  saddle,  I 
am  a  perfect  jockey  !  " 

We  stopped  for  a  rest  at  the  "  Elijah  "  (Greek) 
monastery,  where  we  were  most  cordially  received 
by  a  lay  brother ;  he  offered  us  any  kind  of 
refreshment  we  might  desire,  but  I  begged  for  a 
glass  of  water  ;  the  cats'-meat,  etc.,  which  I  had 
partaken  of  at  lunch,  and  the  walk  had  produced 
a  thirst  which  water  only  could  quench.  He 
retired,  and  in  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  returned 
attended  by  an  inferior,  bearing  a  tray  laden 
with  various  condiments  and  a  bottle  of  clear, 
fresh  water.  I  was  about  to  seize  on  the  latter 
when  he  intercepted  me,  and  insisted  on  my  first 
swallowing  a  spoonful  of  cloying  jam,  which  I 


WATER  MUSIC  261 

had  difficulty  in  forcing  down  my  throat,  he 
then  wanted  me  to  eat  a  sweet  dry  biscuit,  but 
I  struck,  and  refused  point  blank  ;  then  he  forced 
me  to  swallow  a  cup  of  excellent  coffee  ;  that 
performance  over,  he  said  I  might  drink  the  water, 
and  I  swallowed  the  whole  of  the  contents  of 
the  bottle.  He  was  most  pertinacious  in  his 
endeavours  to  persuade  us  to  take  up  our  abode 
in  the  monastery  for  the  night,  but  this  I 
obstinately  resisted,  and  we  made  our  escape, 
promising  to  pay  another  visit  when  we  passed 
that  way  again. 

The  accounts  of  the  weather  at  Jaffa  were  not 
assuring,  but  as  I  was  bound  by  time,  we  left 
on  the  appointed  day  and  again  halted  at  Ramleh. 
When  we  were  about  seven  miles  from  Jaffa 
I  heard  a  rumbling  noise  for  which  I  could  not 
account.  I  enquired  of  my  guide  whence  it 
proceeded.  *'  The  sea  beating  on  the  shore," 
said  he.  ''  What  must  the  sea  be  like  to  hear  it 
at  this  distance  ?  "  I  asked.  ''  Wait  until  you 
see  it  to-morrow,"  was  the  reply.  When  I  did 
see  it,  I  wondered  how  we  were  going  to  reach 
the  ship — which  lay  some  two  miles  away  from 
the  coast — in  an  open  rowing  boat.  The  boat 
was  roomy,  and  the  rowers — eight  Arabs — 
stalwart  and  dexterous.  We  arrived  alongside, 
and  after  waiting  for  a  wave  to  raise  me  to  the 
proper  level,  I  was  chucked  on  to  the  deck,  right 
side  up,  all  safe  and  sound. 

I  arrived  at  Marseilles  at  five  a.m.  on  Christmas 


262      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

Day,  1890 ;  on  Boxing  Day  I  left  for  London, 
where  I  arrived  on  the  27th.  As  I  left  for 
AustraUa,  so  was  I  received  on  my  return  by 
my  staunch  old  friend,  Charlie  Lyall. 

I  was  thankful  I  had  not  been,  like  St. 
Bartholomew,  deprived  of  my  cuticle.  I  was 
whole  in  body,  and  in  perfect  health.  I  brought 
back  very  little  else  ;  what  money  I  had  remitted 
to  London  had  been  swallowed  up  in  household 
expenses  ;  so  I  returned  about  as  rich  in  worldly 
wealth  as  when  I  started.  I  had  a  good  engage- 
ment in  America  for  the  spring  of  1891,  and  I 
knew  that  I  should  soon  have  plenty  of  work  in 
my  native  land ;  about  anything  else  I  troubled 
little. 

During  my  absence  a  great  change  had  come 
over  ''  the  spirit  of  my  musical  dream  '*  ;  a 
revolution  in  musical  affairs  had  taken  place, 
public  taste,  always  fickle,  and  apt  to  be  led  by 
fashion,  had  set  in  a  new  direction.  As  my  ideas 
are  somewhat  cosmopolitan  with  regard  to  the 
exercise  of  my  profession,  so  long  as  no  breach 
of  artistic  etiquette  interpose,  and  as  I  have  gone 
through  all  phases  of  that  exercise,  I  was  not 
disconcerted  ;  I  had  only  to  fit  myself  into  the 
new  groove  and  all  would  be  well. 

But  I  had  not  counted  on  a  stumbling-block, 
which  caused  me  some  anxiety.  The  concert - 
givers,  who  throughout  my  career  had  always 
applied  direct  to  me  respecting  engagements,  had 
made  a  change,  all  engagements  were  conducted 


MUSICAL   AGENTS  263 

by  agents^  the  number  of  whom  had  already 
increased  to  a  great  extent ;  the  consequence 
(unaccountable  to  me)  being,  in  my  case,  that 
treaties  ended  in  nothing,  and  to  my  cost,  I  found 
my  income  was  rapidly  declining.  I  was  all  the 
more  surprised,  as  I  was  in  the  full  possession 
of  my  vocal  and  mental  powers.  I  stuck  to  my 
colours  ;  as  long  as  I  could  pay  my  way  I  cared 
little,  I  had  only  to  practise  economy  and  wait 
patiently  for  further  developments. 

I  had  a  fair  voyage  to  New  York,  for  which 
I  chose  the  French  line  from  Havre.  It  was  not 
so  pleasant  as  I  anticipated ;  there  was  more 
drinking  and  gambling  than  to  me  was  agreeable, 
but  I  kept  myself  to  myself,  and  so  the  time  did 
not  pass  heavily.  From  New  York  I  was  called 
away  to  Montreal,  soon  after  my  arrival,  to 
commence  my  tour.  I  was  received  by  my 
principal,  Mr.  (now  Dr.)  Charles  Harris,  a  lively, 
polished  specimen  of  the  young  Briton,  from 
whom  I  experienced  nothing  but  extreme 
courtesy  and  kind  attention  throughout  my 
tour. 

I  have  nothing  of  interest  to  say  about  the 
concerts  ;  they  were  pretty  much  on  the  same 
lines  as  I  had  been  accustomed  to  in  England, 
I  kept  to  my  repertoire  of  good  music,  which 
I  need  not  insert  here,  as  I  should  think  my 
English  friends  by  this  time  know  it  as  well  as 
I  do  myself,  though  I  do  not  find  they  are 
yet  tired  of  it ;    wherever  I  go  the  demand  is 


264      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

always  for  *'  Oh,  Ruddier  than  the  Cherry,"  « 
"Non  piu  andrai,"  "The  Erl  King,"  "To 
Anthea,"  "  Simon  the  Cellarer,"  showing  that, 
spite  of  all  attempts  to  eliminate  the  dramatic 
element — judging  from  modern  compositions, — 
there  is  a  demand  for  it  when  the  demand  can 
be  supplied. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

Emotion — Workmen — Instruction  and  Education — Obedience 
— Pachmann  on  America — Consolation — Another  Job's 
Comforter — Resolve  to  turn  Teacher — An  Italian  Criticism. 

The  world  has  become  emotional,  not  in  music 
alone,  but  in  politics,  religion,  art,  science, 
literature,  even  in  athletic  exercises ;  witness 
the  silly  hubbub  raised  (not  to  speak  of  the 
more  solid  subscription)  on  account  of  the  winner 
of  a  race,  who  fainted  from  emotion  before  he 
could  reach  the  goal.  In  equity  he  ought  to  have 
received  the  prize,  but  law  stepped  in  and  the 
prize  had  to  be  bestowed  on  another.  I  was 
delighted  when  I  learned  that  an  Italian  boy  was 
the  real  victor  (I  would  have  been  happy  to  shake 
hands  with  and  congratulate  him),  for  we  English 
are  too  apt  to  look  down  on  Italian  genius  and 
perseverance. 

The  British  workman  would  do  weU  to  model 
himself  on  his  Italian  brother  ;  he  would  find 
that  he  is  hard-working  and  frugal  in  his  habits, 
probably  he  would  be  pleased  could  he  limit  the 
working  hours  of  the  day  to  eight  and  be  paid 
higher  wages ;  but  whatever  be  the  number 
of  working  hours  or  the  pay,  he  works  his  full 
time  (not  two  hours'  work  for  eight  hours'  pay), 
he  is  content  with  little  food,  and  that  of  very 
ordinary  quality,   and  no   variety — he   does  not 

265 


266      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

spend  one  half  of  his  earnings  incapacitating 
himself  with  various  intoxicating  liquids,  called 
by  courtesy  beer  or  whiskey,  and  his  work,  what- 
ever it  may  be,  down  to  the  lowest  grade,  he  turns 
OTit  elegant  and  substantial.  I  speak  feelingly, 
for  I  have  had  workmen  about  my  house,  and  if 
I  happened  to  be  under  the  necessity  of  paying 
a  visit  to  a  room  where  they  were  at  work,  instead 
of  attending  to  my  business  I  found  them 
occupied  ''  heating  their  own  irons ''  ;  thus, 
instead  of  having  the  pleasure  of  their  company 
for  two  or  three  days,  I  had  to  put  up  with  the 
nuisance  of  the  disorder  they  created  for  an 
indefinite  period. 

I  am  neither  political  economist  nor  philosopher, 
it  is  therefore  not  my  intention  to  thrust  opinions 
which  may  be  of  little  or  no  value  on  my  readers  ; 
at  the  same  time,  I  beg  permission  to  lay  before 
them  a  few  impressions,  the  result  of  reflection, 
on  the  status  of  the  English  workman.  By 
workman  I  mean  any  man  who  has  work  to  do 
and  is  bound  to  do  it,  whether  he  be  lord  or 
peasant,  sculptor,  musician,  painter,  member  of 
Parliament,  priest,  architect,  stonemason,  brick- 
layer, blacksmith,  carter,  or  any  other  who  has 
to  work  not  only  for  his  own  benefit,  but  for  the 
benefit  of  his  fellow-creatures — a  still  more 
important  duty. 

I  have  been  a  traveller,  and  have  visited  many 
countries,  but  with  little  exception  my  work 
for   upwards   of   sixty   years   has   been   done   in 


INSTRUCTION   AND   EDUCATION      267 

England ;  therefore  I  confine  myself  to  my 
native  country. 

The  result  of  our  **  System  of  Education  '* 
shows  plainly  that  there  are  mistakes  somewhere. 
My  impression  is  that  the  primary  mistake  lies 
in  the  common  usage  of  ''  Instruction "  and 
*'  Education  ''  as  synonymous  terms  ;  they  are 
nothing  of  the  kind,  Instruction  being  but  a  part 
of  Education. 

I  think  the  following  extracts  will  serve  to 
make  this  clear  : — 

Instruction. 

1.  Act  of  teaching;  information.  "We  are  beholden  to 
judicious  writers  of  all  ages  for  those  discoveries  and  discourses 
they  have  left  behind  them  for  our  instruction."     (Locke.) 

2.  Precepts  conveying  knowledge.  "  Will  you  not  receive 
instruction,  to  obey  my  words,  saith  the  Lord."  (Jeremiah 
XXXV,   13.) 

Education. 

Bring  up  ;    instruct ;    train. 

"  Thy  breed,  thy  brood,  instruct,  and  educate, 
And  make  provision  for  the  future  state." 

— (Dry den,  Virgil's  Georgics.) 

Education. 

Bringing  up  ;    training  ;    formation  of  character. 

"All  nations  have  agreed  in  the  necessity  of  di  strict  education, 
which  consisted  in  the  observance  of  moral  duties."  (Swift 
from  Latham's  Dictionary  of  the  English  Language.) 

Instruction. 

1.  The  act  of  teaching  or  informing  the  understanding  in 
that  of  which  it  was  before  ignorant  ;   information. 

2.  Precepts  conveying  knowledge. 


268      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

Education. 

The  bringing  up,  as  of  a  child,  instruction  ;  formation  of 
manners. 

"  Education  comprehends  all  that  series  of  instruction  and 
discipline  which  is  intended  to  enlighten  the  understanding, 
correct  the  temper,  and  form  the  manners  and  habits  of  youth, 
and  fit  them  for  usefulness  in  their  future  stations.  In  its 
most  extended  signification  it  may  be  defined,  in  reference  to 
man,  to  be  the  art  of  developing  and  cultivating  the  various 
physical,  intellectual,  and  moral  faculties,  and  may  be  thence 
divided  into  three  branches — physical,  intellectual,  and  moral 
education.  Under  physical  education  is  included  all  that 
relates  to  the  organs  of  sensation  and  the  muscular  and  nervous 
system.  Intellectual  education  comprehends  the  means  by 
which  the  powers  of  the  understanding  are  to  be  developed 
and  improved,  and  a  view  of  the  various  branches  of  knowledge 
which  form  the  objects  of  instruction  of  the  three  departments 
above  stated.  Moral  education  embraces  the  various  methods 
of  cultivating  and  regulating  the  affections  of  the  heart. 
Religious  education,  although  intimately  connected  with 
moral  education,  may  be  considered  as  a  distinct  branch,  and 
the  most  important  of  all.  To  give  children  a  good  education 
in  manners,  arts,  and  science,  is  important ;  to  give  them  a 
religious  education  is  indispensable  ;  and  an  immense  respon- 
sibility rests  on  parents  and  guardians  who  neglect  these 
duties."     ij^he  Imperial  Dictionary) 

A  man  may  be  thoroughly  instructed,  perfect 
in  knowledge,  but  unless  actuated  by  the  Spirit 
of  God,  he  will  not  accomplish  the  work  God 
assigned  him — the  sole  end  and  aim  of  a  true 
man. 

"  Of  man's  first  disobedience,  and  the  fruit 
Of  that  forbidden  tree,  whose  mortal  taste 
Brought  death  into  the  world  and  all  our  woe.'' 

— (Milton,  Paradise  Lost.) 


OBEDIENCE  269 

Surely  we  require  no  more  stern  reminder  than 
this  of  our  first  duty. 

"  Obedience !  '*  In  every  phase  of  hfe,  in 
the  nursery,  in  the  seminary,  in  the  studio,  in 
the  office,  in  the  workshop,  in  whatever  position 
we  are  placed  under  a  ''  superior."  Obedience 
can  only  be  learned  where  there  is  opportunity 
for  exercising  that  virtue ;  that  "  where "  is 
disappearing  gradually,  if  it  has  not  altogether 
disappeared. 

In  my  fifteenth  year  I  entered  a  merchant's 
office  as  an  apprentice,  bound  by  indentures  for 
a  term  of  five  years ;  the  total  remuneration 
I  received  was  a  sum  of  £100,  payable  ;flO  the 
first  year,  rising  in  arithmetical  progression  £5 
each  succeeding  year ;  I  acted  successively  as 
Post  Office  Clerk,  Custom  House  Clerk,  Book- 
keeper, and  Salesman  ;  all  the  routine  of  which 
departments  I  had  no  difficulty  in  learning.  My 
difficulty  lay  in  acquiring  habits  of  order,  system, 
punctuality,  and — though  I  cannot  accuse  myself 
of  being  a  disobedient  youth — obedience  !  The 
first  work  set  me  was  to  dust  and  polish  the 
counter,  desks,  and  other  furniture ;  it  galled 
me,  but  I  did  it,  and  it  did  me  good. 

My  term  of  servitude,  by  which  I  mean  the 
dusting  and  polishing  and  running  to  the  post 
and  custom  houses,  which  did  not  involve  any 
head  work,  came  to  an  abrupt  termination. 
My  employer,  finding  I  was  an  expert  arithmeti- 
cian, and  probably  finding  I  had  profited  by  my 


270      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

lessons  in  obedience,  raised  me  to  the  important 
post  of  book-keeper  and  cashier  ;  in  his  absence 
he  left  me  in  charge  of  the  whole  ofhce.  He  was 
an  exacting  master,  but — except  when  his  Irish 
blood  approached  boiling  point — just ;  in  justice 
I  must  say  he  was  invariably  lenient  and  generous 
to  me  ;  when  I  left  him,  at  the  end  of  my  appren- 
ticeship, we  parted  very  good  friends.  I  must 
interpolate  that  the  cause  of  our  parting  had 
nothing  to  do  with  his  will  or  mine,  it  was  entirely 
on  account  of  family  considerations.  Friends 
we  remained,  during  his  life. 

It  is  impossible  for  a  human  being  to  learn 
obedience  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word,  unless 
there  is  hounden  duty  to  perform.  There  are  a 
few  cases  that  I  myself  can  call  to  mind,  for 
instance,  those  of  Meyerbeer  and  Mendelssohn, 
both  scions  of  opulent  houses,  who  hound  them- 
selves^ and  did  great  work,  though  there  was  no 
contract  or  necessity  to  bind  them  to  their  duty 
save  their  own  free  will.  But  such  exceptions 
are  rare  indeed,  and  serve  only,  as  we  say,  *'  to 
prove  the  rule."  Every  human  being,  of  whatever 
rank  in  the  world,  ought  to  be  bound,  during  the 
years  of  adolescence,  to  fulfil  whatever  duty  may 
be  imposed  by  a  contract ;  not  only  that  they 
learn  the  business  appertaining  to  that  duty, 
but  that  they  may  learn — which  is  of  far  higher 
importance — to  be  obedient. 

Let  us  go  back  now  for  a  while  to  America  ! 
Returning  from  Philadelphia  to  New  York,  after 


PACHMANN  271 

one  of  my  concerts,  I  met  Pachmann  on  board 
the  ferry  boat,  crossing  the  Hudson  River  ;  we 
had  the  following  dialogue: — 

''  Ah  !   my  dear  Santley,  how  do  you  do  ?  " 

''  Very  well,  my  dear  Pachmann,  and  how  are 
you  ?  " 

"  Oh^  vat  a  horrible  country  !  *^ 

"  Hush  !  the  people  about  will  hear  you,  and 
may  retaliate  !  " 

"  I  don't  care,  it  is  horrible  ;  nossing  to  eat, 
nossing  to  drink,  except  very  dear  vine.  I  cannot 
sleep,  I  get  no  rest  ;   oh,  it  is  horrible  !  " 

''  Well,  have  patience,  you  are  going  to  leave 
it  soon/' 

''  Thank  God !  I  suffer  with  my  Hver,  oh ! 
I  cannot  tell  you,  awful  1  Ah  !  you  remember 
ven  I  vas  in  London,  I  vas  nice  pink  and  vite, 
and  now  I  am  green  ;  oh,  it  is  horrible,  I  never 
come  no  more  !  " 

Poor  fellow,  he  was  rather  a  dismal  sight ;  but 
I  saw  him  lately  looking  as  fresh  as  paint,  his 
bewailed  ''  pink  and  white  "  complexion  restored 
to  its  pristine  splendour.  He  ought  to  celebrate 
his  recovery  with  a  fantasia  on  ''  Oh,  the  roast 
beef  of  Old  England !  "  I  have  related  my 
pleasant  encounter  with  a  non-expectant  relation 
at  Cleveland,  Ohio,  and  another  with  a  washed- 
out  Bacchanalian,  a  fellow-passenger  on  my 
homeward  voyage. 

My  second  experience  of  touring  in  the  United 
States,  thanks  to  Charles  Harris,  was  a  decided 


272      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

improvement  on  the  first  in  every  way.  A  tour 
in  England  is  bad  enough  ;  at  least  there  is  a 
chance  of  getting  home  for  a  day  or  two  occasion- 
ally to  enjoy  a  few  hours'  repose,  but,  in  my 
estimation,  no  amount  of  money  could  compensate 
for  the  misery  of  sleeping  night  after  night  in  a 
hot-house,  dining  day  after  day  in  another, 
putting  up  at  hotels  where  you  must  take  your 
meals  when  the  waiters  choose  to  serve  them, 
and  putting-up — in  a  different  sense — with  the 
overbearing  manners  of  those  same  waiters,  all 
amidst  confusion  worse  confounded. 

In  the  kindliness  and  attention  of  my  audiences 
I  found  consolation,  much  more  than  in  the 
vociferous  applause  with  which  my  efforts  were 
received  everywhere  I  went.  Though  they 
affected  somewhat  the  **  new  school "  of  music, 
introduced  since  my  first  professional  visit  to 
America,  it  appeared  to  me  they  relished  as  keenly 
as  ever  the  "  old  school,"  which  I  still  represented. 
With  all  the  good-will  in  the  world,  however,  I 
could  not  (I  hope  any  who  read  this  may,  in  a 
forgiving  spirit,  sympathize  with  me),  I  really 
could  not  pass  a  great  part  of  my  existence 
cooped  up  in  a  railway  carriage. 

In  1891  I  had  severe  trials  to  go  through  ;  had 
I  not  been  of  robust  constitution  I  should  have 
broken  down.  After  a  concert  in  the  provinces, 
while  I  was  suffering  from  a  severe  cold,  which  I  did 
not  announce  to  the  audience,  one  of  my  comrades 
told  me  in  confidence  "  that  I  had  better  give 


I   TAKE   TO   TEACHING  273 

up  public  singing,  and  turn  my  attention  to 
teaching,  as  it  was  evident  my  nervous  system 
was  utterly  wrecked,  and  the  strain  I  was  putting 
on  it  would  make  an  end  of  me  altogether."  In 
reply,  I  said  I  was  labouring  under  a  combina- 
tion of  serious  troubles,  from  which  I  hoped 
before  long  to  emerge,  and  that  he  would  find 
I  would  be  working,  and  able  to  do  my  work, 
when  he  had  retired  from  the  platform.  With 
God's  blessing  I  pulled  through,  and  am  still  able 
to  do  my  work,  while  the  comrade  retired  some 
years  ago. 

In  1891  I  made  my  last  appearance  at  the  Bir- 
mingham Festival.  I  had  not  missed  once  since  I 
made  my  first  appearance  at  the  festival  of  1861. 
Near  the  end  of  the  year  my  father  died.  The  year 
1892  opened  gloomily;  but  in  the  spring,  the 
burden  which  was  weighing  me  down  and  sapping 
my  vital  energy  was  removed  at  a  stroke,  and  I 
breathed  freely  once  more — still  I  did  not  entirely 
recover  for  some  years  from  the  depression  caused 
by  the  wearing,  wearying,  torturing  load  I  had 
borne  so  long. 

In  1892  I  made  up  my  mind,  as  I  had  little  to 
occupy  me  during  the  *'  London  Season,"  to  turn 
my  attention  to  teaching.  Though  I  had  given 
lessons  in  singing  ''  on  and  off,"  I  had  not  formed 
any  ''  system  "  on  which  to  proceed.  I  made  it 
my  first  business  to  bring  my  knowledge  to  a  focus, 
and  lay  out  a  progressive  course  of  study  from 
the    first    rudiments,    through    all    the    exercises 

i8— (2286) 


274      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

necessary  to  develop  the  quality  and  power  of  the 
voice  and  facility  of  execution. 

To  avoid  interruptions,  I  went  to  Rouen,  where 
I  knew  I  could  be  at  peace.  There  are  plenty 
of  quiet  walks  and  quiet,  quaint  old  places  to 
visit  in  the  city  and  suburbs,  where  I  could  work 
out  my  ideas  undisturbed,  as  I  strolled  about. 
I  succeeded  in  planning  my  work,  entitled  Santley's 
Singing  Master,  which  does  not  contain  much 
original  matter  in  the  form  of  the  exercises  :  their 
utility  lies  in  their  progression. 

Soon  after  it  was  published,  I  received  a  letter 
from  Florence,  written  by  an  Italian,  which 
informed  me  that  ''  the  writer  had  expected  to 
find  something  new  and  instructive  in  a  work  by 
Santley  ;  but,  to  his  great  disappointment,  he 
found  nothing  that  any  decent  singer  did  not 
know,  and  certainly  nothing  that  an  ordinary 
singer  could  not  execute.''  Yet,  in  my  experience 
of  fifteen  years  as  a  teacher,  I  have  not  found 
more  than  ten  people  who  could  sing  the  first 
exercise  correctly — a  simple  scale  of  an  octave  of 
sustained  notes — these,  with  four  exceptions,  were 
students  from  Italy,  France,  Germany,  Australia, 
America,  Africa,  and  Asia,  many  of  them  public 
singers,  pupils  of  world-renowned  teachers.  My 
first  volume  of  "  reminiscences,"  entitled  Student 
and  Singer,  was  published  November  4th,  1892. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

At  the  Cape — Successful  Tour — Coach  to  Johannesburg — Nursing 
a  Weighty  Boer — Dust  Storm — Maritzburg — Prorogation  of 
Parhament — Zulu  Lady's  Ball  Dress — Acted  on  my  Resolution 
— Art  of  Imparting  Knowledge — Manuel  Garcia — Rage  for 
Money -making — A  Great  Artiste. 

My  old  love  of  the  sea  returned  in  1893.  I  did 
not  care  to  make  a  long  voyage,  and  I  had  a  desire 
to  try  new  scenes ;  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope 
appeared  to  me  a  likely  place,  so  I  chose  it.  I 
intended  to  make  my  voyage,  out  and  home, 
my  summer  holiday.  John  Carrodus,  the 
accomplished  violinist,  suggested  that  I  might 
give  a  concert,  or  perhaps  two,  at  Capetown,  and 
so  clear  my  expenses,  especially  as  I  should  find 
a  very  good  accompanist  and  conductor,  Thos. 
Barrow  Dowling  (now  Doctor  of  Music)  established 
there. 

Before  I  left  England  I  received  a  hne  from 
my  friend,  Carlyle  Smythe — my  agent  and 
companion  in  New  Zealand,  Tasmania,  etc., — 
stating  that  he  had  just  concluded  a  tour  with 
Max  O'Rell,  and  if  he  could  be  of  any  service  in 
arranging  a  tour  for  me,  or  in  any  other  way,  he 
was  at  my  disposal.  I  replied,  asking  him  to 
await  my  arrival  at  Capetown,  as  I  had  not 
counted  upon  going  further.  When  I  arrived 
at  Capetown  there  was  my  young  friend  waiting 
for  me  on  the  quay.     We  went  straight  to  the 

275 


276      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

hotel,  and  in  half-an-hour  had  settled  preliminaries 
for  a  journey  up  country,  to  be  made  a  combina- 
tion of  pleasure  trip  and  business  tour.  We  made 
a  start  with  four  concerts  in  Capetown  ;  the  hall 
was  diminutive,  and  would  only  hold  450  ;  it  was 
crowded  each  night.  We  also  gave  a  concert 
in  one  of  the  pretty  suburbs,  crowded  also.  At 
this  I  could  only  pipe  feebly,  my  throat  being 
stuffed  up,  in  consequence  of  not  having  taken 
the  usual  precaution  after  a  sea  voyage  *'  to 
touch  up "  my  obstinate  liver,  a  precaution 
I  advise  every  singer  or  speaker  to  take  under 
similar  circumstances.  I  cannot  offer  any  theory 
with  regard  to  the  action  of  a  sea  voyage  on  the 
vocal  organs ;  I  know  it  from  experience  of 
others,  as  well  as  from  my  own. 

Our  first  stop,  after  leaving  Capetown,  was  at 
Port  Elizabeth,  where  we  gave  a  ''recital" — songs 
relieved  by  violin  solos  played  by  Percy  Ould, 
an  able  violinist  (a  son  of  Charles  Ould,  the  well- 
known  English  violoncellist).  I  had  six  songs 
in  the  programme,  and  added  four  more  as 
encores.  Ould  played  four  pieces  and  some 
encores,  so  we  filled  up  two  hours,  quite 
enough  for  any  concert,  in  my  opinion.  Durban 
was  to  be  our  next  halting-place.  By  way  of 
'*  taking  time  by  the  forelock,"  Smythe  took 
our  passages  by  an  ''  intermediate  boat  "  which 
in  due  course  ought  to  have  landed  us  a  couple 
of  days  before  our  first  concert. 

When   we   arrived   at   West   London,   the   sea 


A   NARROW  SQUEAK  277 

was  in  such  a  state  that  we  could  not  land ;  we 
lay  at  a  little  distance  from  the  shore  for  three 
days  before  the  lighters  could  come  alongside  to 
receive  the  goods  destined  for  the  port.  In 
consequence  of  this  delay,  I  landed  at  Durban 
at  four  o'clock,  p.m.,  on  the  day  of  the  concert. 
An  unknown  friend  had  a  carriage  waiting  on  the 
wharf,  and  drove  me  immediately  to  the  hotel, 
where  I  swallowed  some  food  in  haste,  then  went 
over  to  the  Town  Hall  to  run  through  my  pieces 
with  the  accompanist,  who  turned  out,  either 
from  nervousness  or  inability,  anything  but  a 
help.  Notwithstanding,  I  got  through  my  work 
with  great  success  in  the  evening.  Of  my 
companions  I  only  remember  one,  who  proved 
a  godsend  to  me,  Miss  Marie  Nightingale,  a  very 
good  pianiste,  to  whom  I  listened  with  selfish 
interest.  I  was  determined  to  put  an  end  to  two 
more  concerts  already  announced  unless  a  better 
accompanist  could  be  procured. 

I  approached  Miss  Marie  on  the  subject,  and 
asked  her  if  she  would  be  willing  to  help  me  ;  she 
was  willing,  but  was  very  modest  about  her 
ability.  I  told  her  what  I  had  resolved,  and  at 
last  prevailed  on  her  at  least  to  make  a  trial. 
The  trial  was  made  at  a  little  rehearsal,  when  she 
acquitted  herself  so  well  I  insisted  on  having  her 
help,  and  in  consequence  got  through  the  other 
two  concerts  to  my  entire  satisfaction  and  to  her 
great  joy.  Miss  Nightingale  came  to  England 
a  year  after  to  continue  her  studies   with   Fred 


278      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

Westlake,  of  happy  memory,  but  she  was  followed 
by  a  suitor,  whom  she  married,  and  gave  up 
professional  life  ;  she  left  home  a  Nightingale 
and  returned  a  Don  ! 

I  like  Durban ;  it  is  picturesque,  from  the 
variety  of  costume  and  no-costume  with  which 
it  abounds  ;  the  outskirt,  called  Berea,  high  above 
the  town,  is  charming.  Maritzburg  is  also  a 
pleasant,  quiet  town,  where  we  gave  two  concerts, 
thence  we  made  our  way  by  rail  to  Charlestown, 
and  forward  to  Johannesburg  by  coach,  a  ride 
of  about  twenty  hours,  during  the  greater  part 
of  which  I  had  the  felicity  of  bearing  half  the 
weight  of  a  plump  Boer  on  my  knees.  The  road 
was  for  the  most  part  over  uncultivated  plain, 
not  altogether  uninteresting,  the  exhilarating 
atmosphere  compensating  for  the  lack  of  scenery. 

I  had  heard  a  great  deal  about  the  dust  of 
Johannesburg,  but  though  I  had  some  experience 
of  dust  in  Melbourne,  I  had  not  the  faintest  notion 
of  what  a  Johannesburg  sprinkling  could  effect. 
I  turned  out  one  Sunday  morning  to  assist  in  the 
music  at  High  Mass  ;  not  many  yards  from  the 
hotel  I  was  caught  in  a  whirlwind,  and  then  I 
found  what  dust  meant.  Fortunately,  I  had  a 
clean  bandana  in  my  pocket,  in  which  I  enveloped 
my  head,  or  I  should  have  been  choked.  I  had 
to  stand  still  for  some  time,  as  it  was  impossible 
to  grope  my  way  along.  When  I  arrived  at  the 
church  they  were  performing  a  sneezing  chorus, 
choir    and   congregation   in    unison,    in    which    I 


A  DUST  STORM  279 

joined  ;  every  article  of  furniture  and  costume 
was  thickly  covered  with  dust.  It  was  my  only 
experience  of  a  dust  storm,  and  I  hope  it  will  be 
the  last  ;  a  London  fog  at  the  worst  is  not  in  the 
running.  I  remained  a  week  at  Pretoria,  when 
I  had  the  opportunity  of  being  present  at  the 
prorogation  of  Parliament,  and  hearing  Mr. 
Kriiger,  General  Joubert,  and  other  notabilities 
speak  ;  their  speeches,  being  in  Dutch,  I  cannot 
report. 

At  Kimberley,  coming  off  the  stage  at  the  end 
of  the  last  concert,  after  singing  ''  Simon  the 
Cellarer  "  as  an  encore  to  my  last  song,  I  met 
Smythe,  who  informed  me  that  he  had  been  very 
busy  whilst  I  was  singing,  assisting  to  extinguish 
a  fire  which  had  broken  out  underneath  where 
I  had  been  standing  on  the  stage.  It  is  my  firm 
belief  that  Simon,  had  he  been  aware  of  his 
danger,  would  have  cut  off  Dame  Margery  with 
even  less  ceremony  than  usual.  The  same  theatre 
was  burnt  down  very  shortly  after:  probably  I 
had  a  narrow  escape.  One  of  the  directors 
very  kindly  drove  me  over  the  diamond  mines, 
when  I  had  the  honour  of  picking  out  a  few 
diamonds  from  the  blue  clay ;  there,  however, 
my  labour  ended — pocketing  is  forbidden  ! 

We  returned  to  Capetown,  where  I  gave  a 
concert  for  the  benefit  of  the  ''  Sisters  of 
Nazareth,"  which,  I  believe,  resulted  in  a  goodly 
addition  to  their  funds.  I  did  not  return  to 
England    in    the    condition    of     the    proverbial 


280      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

individual  *'  who  went  (the  proverb  does  not 
mention  where)  for  wool  and  came  back  shorn." 
I  went  to  be  shorn  (amicably),  and  came  back 
with  an  order  on  a  London  banker  for  a  glittering 
garment,  which  clothed  my  account  with  my  own 
banker  very  comfortably. 

I  also  brought  with  me  some  trophies  :  assegais, 
arrows,  swords,  walking-sticks,  bracelets,  belts, 
collars,  etc.,  all  real  Zulu  and  Kaffir  work  ;  the 
most  curious  article  is  a  Zulu  lady's  ball-dress 
of  elaborate  beadwork.  It  cannot  be  called  a 
covering,  it  is  hardly  sufficient  in  breadth  for  a 
baby's  belt. 

I  was  assured  that  the  dress  is  complete  ;  I 
still  think  there  must  be  a  skirt  missing,  or  else 
the  Zulu  ladies  must  be  even  less  particular  about 
hiding  their  personal  charms  than  their  English 
sisters. 

In  1894  I  commenced  my  new  career  of 
"  Teacher  of  Singing."  I  had  arrived  at  the 
years  of  discretion  ;  I  had  formed  my  theoretical 
plan  of  study  ;  passing  over  my  childhood  and 
counting  from  my  fifteenth  birthday,  I  had  spent 
forty-five  years  in  active  experience  as  a  singer, 
and  I  considered  I  was  quite  competent  to  teach 
singing.  For  a  short  time  I  did  not  find  it  so 
easy  to  apply  my  theories  as  I  imagined.  I  soon 
learned  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  make 
myself  acquainted  with  the  idiosyncrasies  of 
temperament,  character,  disposition,  etc.,  of  each 
pupil  before  I  could  succeed  in  the  application  of 


Photo  by 


Berlin   Photographic   Co. 


SENOR    MANUEL    GARCIA 


^  'hy^'ou*^fJaS<^'^^ 


PAULINE   GARCIA   ON   FEES        281 

the  result  of  my  own  experience.  In  a  conversa- 
tion with  Pauhne  Viardot  Garcia  on  this  subject 
a  short  time  since,  she  remarked,  ''  There  is  no 
doubt  that,  for  the  first  lessons,  a  master  of  singing 
(and  this  may  apply  equally  to  other  studies) 
ought  to  pay  the  pupil,  not  the  pupil  the  master, 
as  the  master — if  he  or  she  is  a  master — learns 
a  great  deal  more  than  the  pupil."  In  my  case 
I  know  it  is  true.  A  mode  of  explanation,  either 
by  precept  or  example,  may  be  perfectly  clear  to 
one  pupil,  while  to  another  it  is  unintelligible. 

The  art  of  imparting  knowledge,  like  all  other 
arts,  cannot  be  acquired  without  special  study, 
and  inexhaustible  patience.  An  impatient  teacher 
who  neglects  this  study  can  never  hope  to  lead 
a  pupil  on  to  artistic  proficiency,  however  gifted, 
however  industrious  and  persevering  that  pupil 
may  be.  But  pupils  of  this  class  are  as  few  and 
far  between  as  angels'  visits.  Look  back  at  the 
result  of  the  work  done  by  the  greatest  singing 
master  of  the  past  century — Manuel  Garcia  ! 

At  the  lowest  estimate  he  must  have  been 
engaged  in  teaching  singing  for  seventy  years  ; 
thousands  of  aspirants  gifted  with  good  voices 
must  have  passed  through  his  hands,  yet,  how 
few  of  that  number,  with  the  aid  of  his  intelligence, 
knowledge,  and  unremitting  zeal,  scaled  the 
ladder  to  the  top,  and,  how  many  with  the  same 
aid,  never — if  even  they  approached  the  ladder — 
mounted  higher  than  the  lowest  steps.  Some 
(unthinking)  people  may  say  he  ought  to  have 


282      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

got  rid  of  these  many.  He  could  not ;  Garcia 
had  given  up  a  pubhc  career  as  a  singer^  finding 
his  voice  deficient  in  power,  to  devote  himself 
to  teaching — ''  hoping  against  hope/'  in  the  case 
of  the  many,  with  patience  and  perseverance  to 
impress  on  their  obtuse  senses  some  portion  of 
his  intelligence,  and  so  fit  them  to  take  an 
honourable  position  on  the  artistic  ladder. 

If  he,  a  man  of  extraordinary  intelligence, 
devoted  entirely  to  teaching,  only  succeeded  in 
leading  the  few  to  the  summit,  what  could  I  expect 
to  accomplish,  with  inferior  intelligence,  and 
devoting  only  a  portion  of  my  time  to  teaching  ? 

I  shall  have  to  talk  more  of  my  own  doings, 
for  a  while,  than  is  pleasant  to  me  ;  I  can  only 
beg  my  readers  to  pardon  my  egotistical  remarks, 
which  I  can  assure  them  are  so  only  in  appearance. 
I  may  say  I  speak  of  myself  impersonally. 

The  greater  part  of  my  work  as  a  teacher  has 
been  expended  on  remedying  evils  arising  from 
bad  teaching,  or  rather,  I  would  say,  no  teaching 
at  all,  as  the  word  teaching  is  not  applicable 
to  work  done  by  a  person  ignorant  of  the  subject 
he  or  she  professes  to  teach.  I  have  already 
clearly  stated  in  my  book.  The  Art  of  Singing, 
the  essential  attributes  which  both  pupil  and 
teacher  must  possess  in  order  that  their  combined 
labour  may  result  in  the  production  of  an  artiste 
perfect,  as  far  as  it  is  possible  for  a  human  being 
to  become. 

During  the  last  forty  years  such  productions 


MADAME   KIRKBY   LUNN  283 

have  been  of  the  rarest  ;  ambition  to  reach  the 
top  of  the  artistic  ladder  seems  to  have  slept  or 
died  out.  The  rage  for  money-making  by  ballad 
concerts  and  royalty  accounts  has  ousted  the 
desire  to  succeed  in  opera^  which  ought  to  be  the 
aim  of  every  singer,  and  without  which  no  singer 
can  claim  the  title  of  perfect  artiste.  Some  few 
earnest,  gifted  students  have  attained  eminence 
as  concert  singers,  and  many  more  might  have 
been  added  to  their  number,  but  for  lack  of 
knowledge  of  the  rudiments  of  their  art,  for  which 
not  they,  but  the  ignorance  of  the  greater  number 
of  those  who  profess  to  teach,  and  the  carelessness 
of  the  few  who  with  patience  and  proper  attention 
might  teach,  are  alone  responsible. 

Since  Pauline  Viardot  sang  at  Drury  Lane  in  the 
year  1858,  only  one  great  lyric  artiste  has  appeared 
at  the  opera.  I  sang  with  her  at  some  concerts 
in  the  North  of  England  when  she,  fresh  from  her 
studies,  commenced  her  career  as  a  concert  singer. 
She  had  a  fine  mezzo-soprano  voice,  also  musical 
and  dramatic  feeling,  but  her  vocalization  lacked 
the  first  rudiments  of  the  ''  Art  of  Singing  "  and 
her  dramatic  expression  lacked  discretion.  A  few 
years  after  I  sang  in  the  ''  Messiah,"  when  she 
took  the  contralto  part ;  her  singing  was  perfect, 
vocally  and  dramatically.  Since  then  she  has 
become  the  greatest  artiste  on  the  lyric  stage, 
and  the  most  accomplished  English  singer  I  have 
ever  heard.  With  the  true  instinct  of  an  artiste 
she  has  fought  her  way  to  the  top  of  the  ladder  ; 


284      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

an  example  of  what  can  be  done  with  gifts  con- 
scientiously exercised,  and  thus,  a  model  for  the 
emulation  of  gifted  young  people  who  possess 
ambition  to  arrive  at  artistic  eminence,  with  per- 
severance and  courage  to  surmount  all  obstacles 
and  difficulties.  Her  name  is  Madame  Kirkby 
Lunn. 

Early  in  my  teaching  career,  two  young  ladies, 
who  had  been  studying  for  some  time  in  Paris, 
came  to  me  to  ask  my  advice,  as  they  were  not 
satisfied  with  the  progress  they  had  made.  They 
were  both  mezzo-soprani^  and  both,  after  the 
course  of  study  they  pursued,  had  lost  all  control 
over  the  notes  from  E  or  F  to  A  or  B  within  the 
soprano  stave. 

One  of  them,  who  must  have  possessed  originally 
a  sonorous  voice  of  sympathetic  quality,  and 
sufficient  power  to  warrant  her  in  choosing  singing 
as  a  profession,  told  me  she  had  spent  nearly  the 
whole  of  what  she  possessed — about  a  thousand 
pounds — on  her  lessons  and  living  during  the  two 
years  she  had  been  studying.  After  hearing  her, 
I  told  her  plainly  that  I  found  her  voice  and 
intonation  so  imperfect  that  I  feared  it  was  out  of 
my  power  to  apply  any  effectual  remedy.  She 
implored  me  to  make  an  effort,  as  her  means  were 
exhausted,  and  she  had  nothing  else  to  turn  to 
to  make  a  living.  After  much  patience  and  labour 
on  both  sides,  she  ultimately  recovered  her  voice 
sufficiently  to  procure  a  small  engagement  in  a 
comic  opera  company. 


PICKING  UP  DROPPED   STITCHES    285 

The  other  never  could  have  possessed  any 
quahty  to  warrant  her  in  attempting  to  make  a 
singer.  She  had  a  harsh  voice,  no  musical  ear,  no 
idea  of  accent,  nothing.  She  told  me  a  similar 
story,  she  had  spent  her  patrimony  in  Paris.  She 
was  a  fragile  girl  to  boot,  but  she  was  the  most 
determined  young  person  I  ever  encountered.  I 
told  her  to  give  up  all  idea  of  singing,  but  such 
was  her  resolution,  she  insisted,  and  what  was 
more,  she  was  *'  determined  to  become  a  singer.'' 
To  crown  all,  her  parents  (of  the  puritanical  order) 
were  dead  against  her  appearing  in  public.  I 
begged  of  her  to  renounce  all  idea  of  singing. 
Nothing  I  could  say  affected  her  determination, 
she  absolutely  refused  to  accept  my  advice,  and 
told  me  that  if  I  would  not  take  her  in  hand  she 
would  find  somebody  else,  less  scrupulous  than  I 
was,  who  would.  Out  of  mere  admiration  of  her 
*'  pluck,''  I  took  her  in  hand,  and  now,  after  some 
hard  struggling,  she  is  doing  fairly  well — quite 
satisfactorily  to  herself — in  her  native  place  across 
the  ''  herring-pond.'' 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

Disappointment — Use  of  my  Name — Noise — ^Motors — Airship — 
Rome — A  Cigar  on  the  Pincio — Hohday-making — Contrast 
between  Home  and  Foreign  Resorts — The  Arid  Palm — Another 
Visit  to  the  Cape — My  Friend  Sandy — Accompanists  and 
Accompanying — "  EHjah  "  at  Maritzburg — My  Last  Oratorio 
at  Albert  Hall — PauHne  Viardot  in  "  Elijah." 

Among  the  many  pupils  I  have  had,  a  fair 
proportion  possessing  great  gifts  might  have 
accompHshed  great  things  had  they  possessed 
sufficient  patience  to  wait  until  they  had  studied 
to  perfect  their  knowledge  of  the  ''  Art  of  Singing/' 
before  dedicating  themselves  to  the  ''  Art  of 
Money-grubbing/'  the  *' Charnel-house  of  Art !  '* 

Without  hesitation,  I  declare  I  am  thoroughly 
disappointed  with  the  result  of  the  labour,  patience, 
and  attention  I  have  expended  on  teaching, 
generally  speaking,  but  I  have  found  consolation 
in  such  instances  as  I  give  above,  where  I  acted  as 
rescuer  from  the  dire  results  of  bad  teaching. 

I  do  not  hold  myself  responsible  for  the  imperfect 
execution  of  those  pupils  who,  to  gain  money  and 
the  applause  of  an  ignorant  crowd,  have  abandoned 
my  precepts  and  returned  to  the  Slough  of  Despond 
from  which  I  rescued  them,  although  they  may 
still  continue  to  print  on  their  cards  and  style 
themselves  my  pupils ;  nor  for  such  as,  after 
inflicting  their  presence  on  me  two  or  three  times 
under  pretence  of  taking  lessons,  without  my 
permission,  make  capital  out  of  my  name. 

286 


FRENCH   LAW  287 

Other  people,  without  my  sanction,  make  use 
of  my  name  for  pubHc  professional  purposes.  It 
may  be  they  consider  imitation  the  best  mode 
of  flattery,  but  I  am  not  amenable  to  such 
flattery.  I  do  not  consider  taking  my  name, 
imitation,  it  is  simply  deception.  In  France  the 
law  does  not  allow  it.  A  professional  person 
there  must,  if  there  is  already  before  the  public 
an  artiste  of  the  same  name,  change  his  own. 
The  law  in  England  offers  me  no  redress,  no 
exclusive  right  to  the  name  of  Santley,  so  I  have 
no  alternative  save  (as  we  say  in  the  North)  *'  to 
grin  and  abide  !  " 

The  law  in  France  goes  as  far  as  this.  A 
celebrated  prima  donna,  when  she  first  appeared 
at  the  opera,  bore  the  name  of  Saxe,  but  the  house 
of  Saxe — of  Saxehorn  fame — backed  by  the  law, 
insisted  on  her  taking  another  name  ;  she  was 
then  known  as  Madame  Sass. 

I  pass  over  the  years  between  1894  and  1900. 
Pupils  came  and  pupils  went ;  singers  appeared 
and  singers  disappeared  ;  vocal  music  of  a  mongrel 
kind  appeared,  was  sung,  of  which  a  great  deal 
disappeared  ;  vocal  music  of  a  great  kind  was 
sung,  and  "  in  spite  of  execrations  and  ignorant 
dictations,"  listened  to  (and  always  will  be)  by 
those  elect  natures  who  prefer  gold  to  pinchbeck  ; 
orchestral  works,  native  and  imported,  were 
played,  and  have  to  be  played  still,  as  the  un- 
fortunate hearers  were  so  deafened  with  the 
crash  of  thundering  drum  and  the  blast  of  blatant 


288      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

brass,  that  they  never  sufficiently  recovered  their 
sense  of  hearing  to  hear  music. 

Are  the  devil  and  his  hosts  let  loose  and  come  to 
wreak  vengeance  on  us  poor  mortals  for  their 
long  confinement  in  the  infernal  regions  ?  Shall 
we  never  again  enjoy  a  few  moments  of  peace  on 
earth,  such  as  at  intervals  we  once  enjoyed  ? 
Noise,  noise,  noise,  everywhere  !  ''  The  peace  of 
the  valley  ''  is  a  joy  of  the  past.  Motors  on  land 
and  water  rush  at  ''  devil  take  the  hindmost  " 
speed,  threatening  destruction  to  everybody 
they  meet  or  overtake  in  their  road,  leaving 
clouds  of  dust  and  filthy  smoke  to  choke  those 
who  have  the  good  fortune  to  escape  destruction. 

And  now  we  are  threatened  with  '*  doings  in 
the  air,'*  whose  destructive  powers  we  cannot 
estimate  yet,  but  of  whose  power  of  creating 
noise  I  had  an  opportunity  of  judging  a  few 
weeks  ago  when  I  happened  to  be  at  Lucerne. 
Count  Zeppelin's  airship  passed  at  a  considerable 
elevation  over  the  hotel  where  I  was  staying.  It 
was  a  triumph  of  genius,  indomitable  perseverance, 
and  patience  to  behold,  but  it  emitted  a  noise  of 
one  (or  may  be  ten)  thousand  ''  hurdy-gurdy 
drone ''  power,  which,  to  me,  counteracted 
materially  its  claim  to  admiration.  Cities,  towns, 
and  even  villages,  are  becoming  impassable  for 
pedestrians,  and  for  carriages  and  vehicles  of  all 
sorts  drawn  by  horse  or  hand-power. 

In  1900  I  paid  my  first  visit  to  Rome,  in  order 
to  fulfil  my  religious  duties  in  connection  with 


AN   HOUR   ON   THE   PINCIO         289 

Pope  Leo  the  Thirteenth's  jubilee,  and  to  satisfy  at 
the  same  time  a  Hfe-long  craving.  I  had  but  two 
weeks  at  my  disposal,  not  by  any  means  sufficient 
time  to  see  St.  Peter's,  but  though  I  could  only 
bestow  a  cursory  glance  on  all  else,  I  carried  away 
an  impression  only  inferior  to  that  stamped  on  my 
soul  by  my  visit  to  Jerusalem. 

It  grieved  me  sorely  to  find  street  traffic  in  this 
city,  above  all  others,  where  tranquillity  ought  to 
reign,  governed  by  the  tyrant  motor-car,  tram- 
car,  bicycle,  rushing  at  reckless  speed  through 
narrow,  crowded  streets,  where  few  places  offer  a 
refuge  for  the  foot  passenger,  bewildered  by  bells, 
hooters,  shouts,  and  execrations,  hardly  knowing 
which  way  to  turn  for  safety. 

I  did  not  attempt  to  solace  myself  with  music. 
There  was  a  season  of  opera  in  course,  but  as  the 
hour  for  commencing  was  9  or  9.30  p.m.,  too  near 
my  hour  for  retiring  to  rest,  I  preferred  counting 
my  rests  in  bed.  Only  by  chance  did  I  hear  a 
short  concert — while  I  was  enjoying  a  cigar  on 
the  Pincio  one  afternoon — performed  by  a  splendid 
military  band,  which  discoursed  most  eloquent 
music,  and  enhanced  my  enjoyment  considerably. 
Thank  God,  though  there  was  a  fine  mass  of 
sound,  there  was  no  noise,  except  what  proceeded 
from  the  Philistine  host  down  below,  and  that, 
under  the  influence  of  the  music  and  tobacco 
combined,  did  not  disturb  me;  my  senses  were  for 
the  moment  steeped  in  forgetfulness  of  the  ''  rack." 

I  left  Rome  stunned.     I  longed  to  find  a  place 

19— (2286) 


290      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

where  I  could  be  at  peace  to  think  over  and 
digest  the  amount  of  spiritual  food  I  had 
swallowed.  A  happy  thought  struck  me.  I  went 
direct  to  Brunnen,  my  first  Swiss  love — 

"  On  revient  toujours 
A  ses  premiers  amours  !  " 

But  we  do  not  always  meet  with  the  same  loves 
we  separated  from  years  before.  There  were 
great  changes.  Thank  the  Lord  the  reformer's 
hand  had  not  yet  reached  the  radical  stage.  The 
changes  were  improvements  in  material  points  of 
accommodation ;  peace  still  reigned  over  that 
part  of  the  earth  ;  the  mountain  roads,  not  then 
much  used,  were  improved  ;  my  legs  grown  older 
and  stiffer  still  performed  their  peregrinations 
without  fatigue.  If  I  found  myself  at  the  hour 
when  "  rites  unholy  call  each  Paynim  voice  to 
prayer/'  I  could  satisfy  my  hunger  with  a  good 
plain  but  substantial  succulent  meal,  and  wash  it 
down  with  a  glass  of  wholesome  wine.  What  a 
contrast  to  the  fare  offered  to  the  unfortunate 
traveller  in  our  own  enlightened  country. 

A  few  years  ago  I  was  spending  my  holiday  in 
North  Wales .  My  ^  ^  diggings ' '  were  within  a  carriage 
drive  from  Rhuddlan  Castle.  The  fit  seized  me 
to  take  a  peep  at  the  place  where  in  1885  I  assisted 
in  a  performance  of  the  '*  Messiah,"  during  the 
first  Eisteddfod  (I  believe),  given  on  a  grand  scale. 
Accordingly,  I  made  up  a  party  of  adults  and 
children,  and   we   drove   over   one   day.     As  we 


A   LUNCH   AT   RHUDDLAN  291 

arrived  about  an  hour  before  lunch  time,  and  we 
were  all  pretty  well  *'  sharp  set/'  we  first  went  in 
search  of  a  hostelry  to  order  some  food.  We  found 
five  houses  whose  signs  informed  us  they  were 
"  hotels/'  I  remember  they  all  had  grand  names, 
but  ''  what  is  in  a  name  ?  "  On  enquiry  we 
learned  that,  except  in  one,  there  was  not  a  scrap 
of  meat  to  be  had.  I  took  the  precaution,  on  the 
landlady's  invitation,  to  examine  the  meat  of 
which  that  one  was  the  fortunate  possessor.  I 
must  mention  that  her  ladyship  was  suffering 
from  toothache,  and  had  her  head  fastened  up  in 
a  piece  of  soiled  flannel.  I  went  into  the  larder, 
saw,  and  conquered  my  desire  for  flesh  meat  in 
that  establishment.  What  I  saw  I  cannot  tell  : 
it  was  a  dirty  brown  substance  that  produced  a 
feeling  of  nausea  rather  than  appetite. 

In  another  of  the  ''  hotels,"  whilst  I  was  in 
colloquy  with  the  landlady,  I  heard  something 
frizzling,  which  she  told  me  was  chops.  Oh,  joy  ! 
But,  oh  no  !  They  were  already  bespoken,  and 
there  was  not  another  chop  to  be  procured  for 
love  or  money  in  the  town,  nor  would  be  until 
Saturday,  three  days  later.  The  other  three 
''  hotels  "  could  furnish  nothing  but  ham  or  bacon 
and  eggs ;  very  wholesome  to  those  who  can 
digest  them,  but  cloying  and  calculated  to  upset 
the  interior  economy  of  those  who  cannot.  Of 
course  we  could  have  bread  and  butter,  or  cheese, 
but  I  did  not  feel  inclined  to  treat  my  friends  to 
a  meal  of  appendices.     So  we  had  to  ''  make  the 


292      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

best  of  it/'  I  chose  the  best-looking  establish- 
ment, ordered  ham  and  eggs,  and  tea.  The  ham 
had  to  be  sent  for  to  the  provision  shop,  and  the 
eggs  probably  had  to  be  laid  (they  were  certainly 
very  fresh),  for  we  were  kept  waiting  more  than 
an  hour  for  our  rustic  meal.  Now,  as  Hamlet  said 
to  his  mother,  ''  Look  on  this  picture  and  then  on 
that."  Some  years  ago,  when  I  was  spending  my 
holiday  at  Annecy  in  Savoy,  one  day  ''  at  the 
hour,"  etc.,  I  found  myself  too  far  away  from  my 
hotel  to  get  back  in  time  for  **  breakfast  at  the 
fork."  I  was  just  entering  a  small  village  or 
hamlet,  consisting  of  may  be  twenty  tenements. 
The  jovial  demon  was  raging  within.  I  knew  if  I 
did  not  find  him  at  least  a  bone  to  pick  he  would 
pick  one  with  me  to  my  sorrow.  So  I  diffidently 
looked  about  to  find  a  temple  dedicated  to  the 
''  god  of  grub."  I  followed  my  nose — a  remark- 
ably intelligent  dragoman  in  such  expeditions — 
he  guided  me  straight  to  a  hostelry  which  bore  for 
sign  ''  Hotel  de  la  Couronne  d'Or."  I  entered, 
still  diffident,  and  was  accosted  by  a  plump  dame 
with  a  smiling  face  and  dressed  in  plain  but  clean 
clothes.  She  asked  me,  politely,  ''  What  I  was 
looking  for  ? "  ''  Something  to  eat,"  said  I. 
'*  Pray  walk  in,"  says  she,  leading  me  into  an 
old-fashioned,  clean  dining-room.  ''  And  what 
would  you  like,  Sir."  ''  Anything  you  like  to 
give  me !  "  ''  The  table  d'hote  is  just  over, 
everything  is  still  fresh,  and  you  can  have  a 
freshly-made  omelette  in  place  of  one  dish  which 


A  FRENCH   CONTRAST  293 

has  been  disposed  of."  I  partook  of  excellent 
soup,  boiled  beef  garnished  with  ''  cornichons/' 
my  omelette  (not  a  badly-made  batter  pudding), 
roast  chicken  and  salad,  some  fresh-gathered 
fruit  and  delicious  cream  cheese  (home-made),  and 
I  drank  a  pint  of  excellent  white  wine,  recom- 
mended by  the  hostess ;  the  whole,  including 
"  tip,"  for  two  francs  and  a  half.  The  demon's 
wrath  was  quelled,  and  gave  me  no  further  cause 
for  anxiety  until  I  returned  to  Annecy  in  time  to 
make  myself  beautiful  to  appear  at  dinner. 

People  often  ask  me  why  I  do  not  spend  my 
holidays  in  my  native  country.  I  reply  in  friend 
Pachmann's  words  :  ''  Der  is  nossing  to  eat,  and 
nossing  to  drink  "  ;  on  my  own  account  I  add, 
*'  and  the  devil  to  pay  !  "  I  do  not  live  to  eat 
and  drink,  but  I  must  eat  and  drink  to  live,  and 
as  I  cannot  find  decent  food  to  eat  and  decent 
wine  to  drink  in  a  place  in  my  native  country 
where  I  could  pass  a  tranquil  existence  with  proper 
nourishment,  I  go  where  I  can  find  all  I  require. 

There  is  another  reason  why  I  seek  repose  in 
foreign  lands.  My  well-wishers  frequently  want 
to  know  if  I  do  not  find  the  heat  on  the  shores 
of  the  lake  of  Como  or  Maggiore,  etc.,  debilitating  ? 
I  reply,  ''  In  England  during  eight  months  of  the 
year  I  have  to  exist  in  an  atmosphere  of  cold 
moisture,  tempered  with  the  north-eastern  blast, 
and  I  migrate  to  sunny  climes  to  get  warmed 
through."  The  warming  process  is  slow  ;  it  takes 
a  month  to  dry  my  bones,  and  then  another  two 


294      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

weeks  to  thaw  my  marrow.  I  never  interfere 
with  other  people's  tastes  or  necessities.  I  merely 
state  what  I  like  and  require.  At  the  same  time 
I  know  it  does  me  good,  and  I  venture  to  suggest 
merely  that  what  I  find  effective  would  be  likewise 
more  beneficial  to  many  seekers  of  repose  from 
the  business  of  the  world  than  prowling  about  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  glaciers  and  snow-clad 
peaks^  where  the  mid-day  heat  is  often  unbearable, 
and  the  evening  cold  is  always  unbearable — 
unless  nature  has  kindly  provided  the  prowler 
with  a  rhinoceros's  hide — and  dangerous  to  the 
ordinary  human  being  unaccustomed  to  such 
extreme  changes  of  heat  and  cold  during  the 
same  twenty-four  hours. 

A  few  weeks  ago  I  made  an  excursion  from 
Lucerne  to  Brunnen  accompanied  by  a  friend  who 
had  never  been  on  the  lake  before.  We  had  to 
wait  on  the  quay  at  Brunnen  for  the  return 
steamer  from  Fluelen.  What  a  change  has  come 
o'er  the  spirit  of  the  dream.  Peace  has  departed, 
modern  progress  has  planted  all  its  various  con- 
stituents of  noise  and  bustle,  the  Demon  of 
Destruction  rushes  wildly  over  the  once  quiet 
roads  ;  the  primitive  porter  is  replaced  by  an 
official  bedecked  with  gilt-banded  cap  and  gilt- 
buttoned  surtout,  his  extended  palm  ever  ready 
to  receive  the  "insults"  (vide  "The  Mikado" — 
Gilbert  and  Sullivan)  of  the  departing  stranger, 
or  any  other  little  stray  perquisite  that  chance 
may  throw  in  his  way. 


THE  SAILOR'S   RETURN  295 

When  I  left  the  quiet  village  in  1860,  I  took 
away  with  me  a  little,  chubby-faced  boy  ;  one  of 
a  family  of  eleven  children,  whose  poor  parents 
could  barely  provide  for.  He  lived  in  my  service 
for  two  years,  when  he  conceived  an  irrepressible 
desire  *'  to  go  to  sea.''  I  found  a  ship  for  him, 
fitted  him  out,  and  off  he  went  to  Shanghai.  I 
heard  from  him  occasionally  that  he  was  doing 
well,  and  that  ultimately  he  had  set  up  in  the 
hardware  business  on  his  own  account  at  San 
Francisco.  He  was  one  of  the  lucky  people  who 
came  unscathed  out  of  the  earthquake  and  fire 
disaster. 

Since  he  left  his  home  in  1860,  he  had  never 
been  able  to  return,  owing  to  one  vicissitude  or 
another,  until  this  year.  He  learned  I  was 
staying  at  Lenno,  and  came  over  to  see  me.  He 
had  grown  into  a  wiry,  elderly  man  with  a  grey 
beard,  in  whom  I  should  never  have  recognized 
the  chubby  boy.  His  first  words  after  saluting 
me  were,  ''  My  God,  what  a  change.  I  could  not 
have  believed  it  possible.  Brunnen  is  utterly 
spoiled."  And  well  he  might  say  so.  The  modest 
hotel,  at  the  landing-place,  where  peace  and 
comfort  were  to  be  had  at  a  moderate  rate,  is  now 
replaced  by  a  palatial  residence  where  nothing  but 
noise  and  bustle  are  offered  at  a  modern  tariff, 
augmented  by  the  extortions  of  ''  the  expectant 
arid  palm/'  and  surrounded  on  all  sides,  except 
the  water  side,  by  still  more  pretentious  hostelries. 

Legs,    except    for    the    pleasure    of    stretching 


296      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

them  refreshmentwise,  might  in  general  be  dis- 
pensed with.  The  weary  voyager  from  Lucerne 
(very  nearly  two  hours'  sail)  is  conveyed  by 
vehicles  of  various  kinds  to  his  destination,  and  if 
he  wishes,  which  he  does  not  always,  to  enjoy  the 
scenery,  there  are  horses,  donkeys,  tram-cars, 
motor-cars,  funicular  railways,  always  ready  to 
save  his  poor  legs.  There  is  one  thing  which 
awaits  the  invention  of  some  noble  genius — a 
benefactor  to  his  race — a  machine  to  undress  the 
weary  traveller,  say  his  prayers  for  him,  and  lay 
him  gently  on  his  bed.  Perhaps  with  a  little 
extra  trouble  it  might  be  fitted  with  a  musical 
stop  to  murmur  a  lullaby  and  hush  him  to  sleep. 

In  1903  I  paid  another  visit  to  the  Cape  ;  I  was 
away  from  home  two  and  a  half  months.  Under 
the  auspices  of  a  syndicate  I  sang  at  Capetown  in 
three  miscellaneous  concerts,  and  in  '^  Elij ah.''  The 
concerts  were  not  well  attended,  but  the  public 
made  up  at  the  oratorio  for  their  absence  at  the 
concerts.  The  performance  took  place  in  a  large 
drill-hall ;  the  hall  was  densely  packed,  and  the 
execution  of  the  work  was  excellent,  the  chorus, 
drilled  to  perfection  by  Dr.  Barrow-Dowling,  did 
him  great  honour ;  the  orchestra  was  not  far 
behind,  it  only  lacked  one  or  two  important 
instruments  (not  to  be  had  in  Capetown)  to  have 
raised  it  to  the  level  of  the  chorus.  I  have  had 
much  to  do  with  Dowling,  both  as  accompanist 
and  conductor,  and  cannot  in  justice  forbear 
saying  that  his  knowledge,  judgment,  care,  and 


THE   CAPE   AGAIN  297 

earnestness,   would  fit   him  for  a  post  in  either 
capacity  in  any  country. 

With  the  aid  of  one  who  had  proved  himself  a 
true  friend  during  my  first  visit  (Mr.  Alex .  Milligan 
— my  friend  Sandy),  I  gave  a  concert  at  the  Town 
Hall,  Durban  ;  I  ground  the  organ,  and  he  blew 
the  bellows  to  some  purpose  ;  we  had  the  hall 
packed  from  stem  to  stern,  hundreds  of  people 
were  left  out  in  the  cold,  and  we  were  considerably 
enriched  by  the  net  proceeds.  Sandy,  being  head 
''  bottle-washer  "  of  the  Natal  Mercury,  refused 
to  participate  in  the  profits,  but  I  forced  his  share 
down  his  throat,  threatening  him  with  non- 
participation  in  the  business  if  ever  I  appeared  in 
Durban  again.  It  was  he  who  loaded  me  with 
the  Zulu  and  Kafhr  trophies,  when  I  was  leaving, 
after  my  first  African  campaign  ;  he  is  responsible 
for  my  statement  that  the  lady's  ball-dress  is 
talis  et  qualis  as  worn  by  Zulu  ''  belles." 

I  had  no  difficulties  this  visit  about  an  accom- 
panist ;  we  had  the  comfort  of  the  assistance  of 
one  of  the  ablest  I  have  known,  Mrs.  D.  MacCoU, 
a  distinguished  amateur  during  her  husband's  Hfe, 
who,  after  his  premature  death,  turned  her  musical 
talents  to  good  account,  fortunately  for  those 
who,  Hke  all  wandering  singers,  are  often  placed 
in  a  very  awkward  predicament.  It  is  impossible 
for  a  singer  or  solo  instrumentalist  to  do  justice 
to  the  work  he  is  performing,  or  to  his  own 
talent,  if  he  is  held  in  check  by  a  bungler  w^ho 
insists  on  ''  following  "  him  ;  *'  following  "  is  not 


298      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

"  accompanying/*  I  am  often  told,  when  I  have  to 
depend  on  an  individual  I  have  never  met  before, 
and  to  whom,  therefore,  I  feel  it  necessary  to 
give  some  hints,  '*  Oh,  do  not  trouble,  I  will  follow 
you."  I  reply,  ''  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  do  not 
want  you  to  follow,  I  want  you  to  keep  by  my 
side  ;  you  must  keep  your  intelligence  alive  and 
your  ears  open  or  you  will  be  a  hindrance  instead 
of  a  help." 

How  could  a  man  who  undertakes  to  assist 
another  up  a  stony,  steep  path  render  any  assist- 
ance if  he  follows  two  or  three  paces  behind  ?  We 
have  our  stony,  steep  paths  to  climb,  and  are 
liable  to  slip  unless  our  help  is  on  the  spot.  We 
get  through  our  work  and  cover  our  slips  if  we 
are  experienced,  at  the  expense  of  our  nerves  ; 
while  the  inexperienced  youngsters  flounder,  and 
in  consequence  have  to  bear  the  stigma  of  imper- 
fection. A  solo  pianist  may  be  able  to  play 
perfectly  at  sight  any  music  put  before  him  ;  that 
does  not  make  him  an  accompanist ;  he  is  more 
likely  to  be  engaged  in  displaying  his  own  peculiar 
talent  than  in  paying  attention  to  the  person  he 
is  accompanying.  The  most  difficult  test  for  an 
accompanist,  in  my  opinion,  is  a  song  such  as 
many  of  our  old  English,  Irish,  or  Scotch  ditties, 
where  the  declamation  of  the  verses  is  the  most 
important  feature ;  the  accompaniment,  con- 
sisting of  a  simple  arpeggio,  or  a  few  dispersed 
chords,  merely  to  sustain  the  voice ;  to  the 
uninitiated  it  looks  very  easy,  but  I  have  known 


PERFORMER  AND   ACCOMPANIST    299 

very  few  professed  accompanists  who  could  stand 
the  test. 

I  may  seem  hard  upon  this  branch  of  the 
profession,  while,  on  the  contrary,  I  sympathize 
heartily  with  its  professors  ;  my  only  object  in 
speaking  as  I  have  done,  is  to  advise  any  of  my 
young  friends  who  desire  to  follow  it,  to  bear  in 
mind  the  stale  proverb,  ''  Fools  rush  in  where 
angels  fear  to  tread."  Accompanying  is  a  vocation ; 
like  all  other  vocations,  it  requires  study  and 
experience  to  fit  it  for  the  work  it  is  called  to  do. 
At  the  same  time  performers  have  no  right  to 
demand  impossibilities ;  it  is  their  duty  to 
provide  the  accompanist  with  a  clear  copy  of  the 
piece  they  are  about  to  perform  in  the  key  in 
which  they  perform  it,  and  any  particular  marks 
of  expression,  or  changes  of  time  they  introduce 
into  it,  clearly  defined.  Failing  this,  they  deserve 
any  blame  that  may  be  attached  to  their  imperfect 
performance. 

I  was  present  at  a  comic  illustration  of  what 
may  happen  through  a  singer's  inattention  to 
business.  I  was  singing  at  a  concert  in  the 
provinces  some  years  ago,  when  a  celebrated  lady 
singer,  being  called  upon  for  an  encore,  handed  a 
ragged,  dirty  copy  of  a  Scotch  ballad  to  the 
accompanist — Tito  Mattel — requesting  him  to  play 
it  in  G  flat — the  copy  was  in  D  natural.  ''But,'* 
said  Tito,  '*  I  cannot  transpose  a  song  I  do  not 
know  from  D  to  G  flat  at  sight,  before  the  public  ; 
if  you  had  shown  it  to  me  at  the  hotel,  I  would 


300      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

play  it  in  any  key  you  like/'  A  slight  altercation 
ensued,  which  ended  in  Mattei  giving  way  ;  he 
glanced  at  the  song  as  he  went  on  to  the  platform, 
and  played  the  accompaniment  perfectly  ;  but 
the  lady  found,  after  about  a  dozen  bars  or  so, 
she  could  not  reach  the  lower  notes,  and  stopped  ; 
I  guessed  what  was  the  matter,  there  was  a  G  fiat 
in  the  key,  and  she  took  for  granted  that  must  be 
the  key  note  ;  she  wanted  it  in  D  flat !  Young 
singers,  beware  ! 

I  also  sang  at  a  miscellaneous  concert  and  in 
*'  Elijah  ''  at  Maritzburg  ;  both  nights  we  had  a 
crowded  house  ;  the  concert  went  off  very  well ; 
the  oratorio  :  Hum  !  Ha  !  hkewise  Ho  !  Being 
alive  at  the  present  moment,  I  hardly  need  say 
I  survived  it  !  The  mayor,  the  aldermen,  and 
other  officials,  besides  a  number  of  '*  elect  "  of 
the  town,  assembled  in  the  green-room  after  the 
performance  and  joined  in  a  *'  Hallelujah  '* 
chorus,  showing  that  they  were  satisfied,  so  I 
dismissed  my  patron  **  Elijah  "  from  my  thoughts, 
went  back  to  my  hotel,  ate  my  supper  with  good 
appetite,  and  after  smoking  the  calumet  of  peace 
("the  calomel  o'  pace,''  I  believe,  is  the  Irish  trans- 
lation adopted  by  the  Dublin  carman),  retired  to 
my  tranquil  cot  and  dreamed  that  a  raven  with 
a  human  face  and  barbed  tail  presented  me  with 
a  conductor's  baton  shaped  like  a  boomerang, 
and  commanded  me  to  collect  together  a  band  of 
Baalites  who,  like  sheep,  had  gone  astray.  I 
cast     the    boomerang,    it    missed     the     sheep. 


AT  THE   ALBERT   HALL  301 

recoiled  on  me,  stunned  me,  and  I  did  not  recover 
consciousness  until  I  was  awakened  by  the  matin 
bell. 

A  propos  of  Mendelssohn's  immortal  work,  the 
following  anecdote  may  be  found  amusing.  The 
last  time  I  sang  for  the  Royal  Albert  Choral 
Society  (about  eight  years  ago,  more  or  less)  was 
in  a  performance  of  ''  Elijah."  I  was  in  first-rate 
form  and,  without  boasting,  can  say  I  executed 
my  part  in  first-rate  style.  I  departed  after  the 
air  "  For  the  mountains,"  as  usual.  When  I  reached 
the  top  of  the  steps  leading  from  the  orchestra 
to  the  west-end  door,  a  nice-looking  old  lady, 
accompanied  by  a  young  man,  emerged  from  the 
entrance  to  the  area.  I  heard  their  conversation 
without  listening,  as  they  were  speaking  at  full 
voice.  The  young  man  said,  ''  Well,  dear,  what 
did  you  think  of  it  ?  "  ''  My  dear,"  she  replied, 
*'  it  was  delightful,  really.  I  enjoyed  it  very 
much."  "  Was  it  not  a  wonderfully  fine  per- 
formance ?  "  continued  the  gentleman.  "  It  was, 
indeed,"  said  the  pleasant  old  lady  ;  ''  there  was 
only  one  drawback ;  in  my  opinion,  there  was  too 
much  of  ''  Elijah  "  and  too  little  of  Mr.  Edward 
Lloyd."  I  was  not  surprised  or  annoyed  in  the 
least.  As  I  drove  home,  smoking  my  cigar,  I 
wondered — I  had  often  done  before,  after  taking 
part  in  an  oratorio — whether  people  go  to  hear 
an  interpretation  of  a  dramatic  work,  or  merely 
to  hear  sundry  people  sing.  I  am  inclined  to 
accept  the  latter,  and  even  in  that  case  they  do 


302      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

not  always  choose  the  best.  Many  and  many  a 
time  have  I  taken  part  in  *'  EHjah/'  when  the 
only  piece  that  aroused  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
audience  was  ''  Oh  rest  in  the  Lord/*  sung  in  such 
a  way  as  might  cause  Mendelssohn  to  turn  in  his 
coffin.  I  may  add,  that  certainly  not  more  than 
three  times  in  the  course  of  my  career,  have  I 
heard  either  that  or  the  other  contralto  air,  ''  Woe 
unto  them,*'  sung  as  Mendelssohn  intended, 
either  as  regards  movement  or  interpretation  of 
the  dramatic  situation  ;  and  never  but  once  the 
grand  recitative  for  ''  Queen  Jezebel  "  declaimed 
with  true  dramatic  fire  ;  Pauline  Viardot  Garcia 
was  the  interpreter. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII 

Anniversary  of  my  First  Public  Appearance — Depression — My 
Jubilee — Earl  of  Kilmorey's  Spontaneous  Offer — A  Pleasant 
Surprise  —  Knighted  —  Congratulations  and  Mementoes  — 
Mendelssohn's  Note-book,   1832 — Conclusion. 

When  I  look  back  to  my  first  appearance  at  a 
public  concert^  having  since  experienced  so  many 
changes  of  scene  and  gone  through  so  many  phases 
of  life,  I  can  almost  believe  my  professional  birth 
is  post-dated  by  a  century.  Half-professional,  I 
ought  to  say,  rather  ;  even  then  I  saw  no  hope  of 
the  button  developing  into  a  full-blown  flower  ; 
no  hope  of  exchanging  the  drudgery  of  a  counting- 
house  for  the  life  my  soul  aspired  to,  however 
exigent  the  work  it  might  entail ;  no  hope  of 
satisfying  my  craving  desire  to  see  foreign  countries, 
especially  Italy.  But  I  did  not  allow  my  desires 
to  interfere  with  the  duty  I  was  bound  to  fulfil* 
Everything  (lawful)  comes  to  those  who  wait 
patiently.  I  waited  patiently,  and  did  my  work 
conscientiously  ;  a  month  after  the  twenty-first 
anniversary  of  my  birthday,  the  unexpected  ray 
of  hope  shone  !  of  the  sequel  you  know  the  greater 
part ;  the  rest  you  will  soon  know,  if  I  have  not 
already  worn  out  your  patience. 

March,  1903,  was  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  my 
first  public  appearance.  Mr.  Henry  Oilman,  who 
was  then  manager  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  suggested 

303 


304      REMINISCENCES  OF  MY  LIFE 

to  me  that  a  concert  on  a  grand  scale  in  the 
transept  of  the  palace,  would  be  a  fitting  celebra- 
tion of  the  event,  and  begged  I  would  give  it 
my  serious  attention.  I  ''let  it  slide/'  as  I 
had  no  intention  of  celebrating  my  professional 
birthday  otherwise  than  quietly  at  home. 

1904,  1905,  and  1906— until  towards  the  close- 
were  years  of  considerable  anxiety.  I  began  to 
contemplate  being  left  out  in  the  cold  altogether  ; 
it  appeared  to  me  that  I  had  become  a  clog  on 
the  musical  world  ;  while  it  respected  my  long 
service  and  experience,  it  no  longer  felt  inclined 
to  make  use  of  them. 

In  the  autumn  of  1906,  my  musical  affairs  had 
reached  such  a  depth  of  depression  that  I  began 
to  think  seriously  of  the  few  future  years  of  life 
which  might  still  remain  for  me.  Many  acquaint- 
ances urged  me  to  organize  a  celebration  of  the 
jubilee  of  my  first  appearance  in  London,  which 
took  place  16th  November,  1857.  Counsel  and 
remonstrance  were  of  no  avail  until  a  young 
advocate  pleaded  the  cause,  adopting  a  line  of 
reasoning  which  caused  my  determination — to 
''  let  it  slide  " — to  waver. 

I  overcame  my  obstinacy  so  far  as  to  consult  a 
party  I  thought  might  be  of  service  in  organizing 
what  I  conceived  a  fitting  celebration.  The 
proposals  I  made  were  received  without  any 
expression  of  warmth  or  of  faith  in  the  venture  ; 
the  observations  on  what  I  had  to  propose  were 
chiefly  confined  to  ''  Hum  !  "  and  "  Ha  !  "  "  Do 


Photo  by 


Lansner 


THE    EARL    OF    KILMOREY,    K.P. 


LORD   KILMOREY  305 

you  think  ?  "  and  ''  Don't  you  think  ? ''  By 
degrees  we  made  a  crescendo.  ''  Where  did  you 
think  of  giving  the  performance  ?  ''  •''  What 
style  of  entertainment  did  you  propose  to  give  ?  " 
and,  lastly,  ''  //  you  resolve  upon  trying  it,  whom 
would  you  propose  for  the  committee  and  chair- 
man, to  carry  out  your  scheme  ?  "  These  being 
plain  questions,  I  answered  them  plainly:  ^^I  have 
plenty  of  friends  on  whom  I  could  depend  to 
form  a  committee,  and  I  have  an  old  and  staunch 
friend  who,  I  am  sure,  will  undertake  the  office 
of  chairman/' 

My  interview  threw  a  considerable  measure  of 
cold  water  over  my  expectations ;  I  told  my 
young  advocate  I  did  not  see  any  hope  of  success, 
and  it  would  be  better  to  abandon  all  idea  of  a 
celebration.  But  a  few  days  passed  after  I  had 
aired  this  conclusion,  when  I  received  a  note 
from  Lord  Kilmorey,  asking  me  to  make  an 
appointment,  as  he  wished  to  call  to  see  me  on  a 
matter  of  business.  I  made  up  my  mind  that 
a  member  of  his  family  wished  to  take  lessons  in 
singing,  and  he  desired  to  arrange  convenient 
hours  for  the  lessons. 

My  intimacy  with  his  lordship  dates  back 
nearly  to  the  year  1860  ;  he  was  then  Viscount 
Newry ;  we  became  acquainted-  at  the  Opera, 
of  which  he  was  a  frequenter  and  ardent  admirer. 
He  possessed  a  tenor  voice,  not  of  great  power,  but 
of  very  sympathetic  quality,  and  as  he  expressed 
a    desire   to    cultivate    it   sufficiently  to    use    it 

20 (2286) 


306      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

gracefully  for  the  delectation  of  his  friends,  I  made 
him  the  offer,  which  he  accepted,  to  give  him  some 
lessons.  With  a  good  musical  ear,  combined 
with  good  taste,  he  made  great  progress  during 
the  short  time  he  was  able  to  devote  to  singing. 
I  wrote  a  little  song,  ''  Nellie  darling,''  which  I 
dedicated  to  him,  and  which  he  sang  charmingly  ; 
thus  we  became  intimate  friends,  and  though  we 
met  only  on  rare  occasions  of  late  years,  our 
friendly  intimacy  has  never  slackened.  He  kept 
the  appointment  I  made  to  see  him  ;  he  marched 
in  with  military  stride  and  saluted  me  with  a 
friendly  smile,  then  went  with  military  precision 
straight  to  work  at  the  object  of  his  call.  *'  When 
I  met  you  at  the  Crystal  Palace  in  June  last,  did 
I  not  hear  you  say  that  next  year,  1907,  you 
would  celebrate  your  jubilee  ?  " 

''  Yes,  on  16th  November,  1907." 

*'  Good  !  Now,  I  am  not  going  to  ask  for  your 
consent,  for  you  will  have  to  give  it ;  I  am  going 
to  organize  a  big  affair  to  celebrate  the  event. 
You  are  not  to  interfere  in  any  way  ;  a  committee 
wiU  be  formed,  of  which  I  will  act  as  chairman  ; 
we  will  arrange  for  the  place  in  which  the  cele- 
bration shall  take  place  ;  we  will  invite  all  your 
old  comrades  who  are  still  before  the  public,  and 
some  that,  though  they  have  retired,  I  am  sure 
will  leave  their  retreats  to  do  honour  to  you  by 
taking  an  active  part  in  the  concert ;  in  fact, 
everything  will  be  arranged  connected  with  the 
affair  ;    and  you  shall  not  have  anything  to  do 


THE   PAPAL   BLESSING  307 

with  it,  except  to  sing  two  of  your  best-known 
songs,  and  pocket  the  proceeds." 

I  was  so  overwhelmed  with  this  act  of  generosity 
and  the  affectionate  way  in  which  he  offered  it, 
I  could  only  murmur  :  ''  Thank  God,  you  have 
saved  me  !  "  After  entering  into  a  few  particulars 
relating  to  the  celebration,  he  left  me  and  my 
little  advocate  happy  ! 

The  particulars  of  the  *'  celebration  "  I  need 
not  enter  into,  as  it  took  place  so  recently.  To 
those  friends  and  admirers  who  took  an  active 
part  in  it,  to  those  who  spared  time  they  could  ill 
afford,  to  attend  meetings,  to  those  who  gave  their 
services  to  form  an  attractive  concert,  and  to  all 
who  by  their  substantial  generosity  helped  to 
realize  the  brilliant  result  of  the  '*  celebration," 
I  offer  my  heartfelt  thanks. 

His  Holiness  Pope  Pius  X,  through  the 
instrumentality  of  my  Archbishop,  Dr.  Bourne, 
sent  me  his  Apostolic  Blessing  and  good  wishes 
for  the  success  of  my  jubilee.  I  made  a  pilgrimage 
to  Rome  during  the  month  of  May  to  thank  His 
Holiness  in  person.  After  giving  me  his  blessing, 
he  said,  with  a  loving  smile,  '*  I  hope  you  may 
live  to  see  another  jubilee,  then  I  will  send  you 
my  blessing  again  !  " 

Throughout  my  career  I  never  sought  for, 
coveted,  nor  expected  "  honours."  On  the  1st 
January,  1887,  His  Holiness  Pope  Leo  XHI, 
conferred  on  me  the  title  of  *'  Commander  of  the 
order  of  Saint  Gregory  the  Great,"  of  which  I  had 


308      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY  LIFE 

not  had  the  sUghtest  hint  until  I  received  notice 
of  it  from  the  Vatican  ;  for  that  I  have  to  thank 
the  Passionist  Father,  Vincent  Grogan,  through  the 
intercession  of  His  Eminence,  the  late  Cardinal 
Manning. 

A  few  months  after  my  jubilee,  I  was  the 
recipient  of  a  pleasant  surprise,  an  ''  honour " 
which  I  certainly  had  never  looked  forward  to. 
On  the  morning  of  the  4th  November,  1907,  the 
first  letter  I  opened  was  from  the  late  Premier, 
Sir  Henry  Campbell-Bannerman  ;  it  was  to  ask 
me  '*  in  case  His  Majesty  were  pleased  to  bestow 
on  me  the  honour  of  knighthood,  would  I  accept 
it  ? "  I  had  only  one,  a  family  objection,  to 
propose ;  my  young  advocate  proposed  per 
contra  binding  reasons  for  my  acceptance  ;  my 
duty  to  my  Sovereign  ;  my  duty  to  my  profession 
and  professional  comrades  ;  and,  lastly,  the  great 
honour  of  being  the  first  singer  on  whom  the 
honour  of  knighthood  would  fall.  I  am  a  loyal, 
loving  subject  of  my  Sovereign,  a  staunch 
conservative  of  the  honour  and  dignity  of  my 
country,  as  becomes  a  man  whose  only  desire  is 
to  be  worthy  of  the  name  of  Christian  ;  therefore 
I  accepted  the  honourable  title  it  might  be  His 
Most  Gracious  Majesty's  pleasure  to  bestow  on  me. 
On  the  16th  December,  1907,  I  knelt  before  my 
Sovereign  as  Mr.,  and  rose  Sir  Charles  Santley. 

On  the  24th  January,  1907,  I  was  invited  to 
meet  the  members  of  the  chorus  of  the  Halle 
concerts,  in  the  Town  Hall,  Manchester,  before  a 


A   KNIGHTHOOD   CONFERRED      309 

performance  of  "  Elijah/'  in  which  I  had  to  sing 
on  that  evening.  In  the  name  of  the  ladies  and 
gentlemen  of  the  chorus^  the  chorus  master,  Mr. 
R.  H.  Wilson,  presented  me  with  a  handsome 
silver  cigar-box  as  a  token  of  their  affection  and 
esteem,  and  in  remembrance  of  the  many  occasions 
on  which  we  had  worked  together  between 
January,  1858,  and  the  24th  January,  1907. 
During  that  time  I  cannot  call  to  mind  having 
missed  the  annual  performances  of  the  ''  Messiah,'* 
and  only  one  or  two  of  "  Elijah,"  except  the  two 
years  I  was  absent  in  Australia. 

On  the  31st  January,  1907,  between  the  parts 
of  a  concert  in  which  I  took  part  at  Norwich, 
I  was  presented  by  the  Mayor,  Mr.  W.  R.  C. 
Howlett,  on  behalf  of  the  subscribers,  with  a 
handsomely  bound  folio  volume  containing  the 
annals  of  the  Norwich  Festival  from  1824  to  1903, 
with  copious  finely-executed  illustrations,  and 
portraits  of  the  various  eminent  artistes  who  took 
part  in  the  triennial  celebrations. 

On  the  16th  December,  1907,  the  day  on  which 
His  Most  Gracious  Majesty  conferred  on  me  the 
honour  of  knighthood,  I  took  part  in  an  organ 
recital  with  Mr.  George  Riseley,  at  Bristol.  On 
making  my  appearance  I  was  received  by  the 
audience — standing — with  a  splendid  ovation,  to 
which  I  responded  with  a  few  words  of  cordial 
thanks  ;  and  between  the  parts  of  the  concert  I 
received  a  deputation  of  all  the  principal  musical 
societies    in    Bristol,    to    offer    me    their    united 


310      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

congratulations  on  having  attained  my  jubilee, 
and  having  received  the  honour  of  knighthood. 

On  the  18th  December,  1907,  after  taking  part 
in  a  performance  of  ''  Elijah/'  at  Hanley, 
Staffordshire,  I  was  invited  to  meet  the  Mayor 
and  members  of  the  Borough  Council,  with  a  few 
friends  and  the  performers  in  the  oratorio,  in  the 
Mayor's  private  room.  After  an  eloquent  speech. 
His  Worship  presented  me  with  two  beautiful 
Wedgewood  vases,  as  a  souvenir,  offered  me  by 
my  friends  in  Hanley,  of  the  many  times  I  had 
been  able  to  afford  them  some  little  solace  amid 
the  cares  of  the  world.  In  thanking  the  Wor- 
shipful the  Mayor,  and  the  kind  friends  by  whom 
I  was  surrounded,  I  had  to  express  my  regret 
that  on  that  occasion  I  had  not  been  able  to 
do  my  work  to  my  satisfaction,  as  I  was  suffering 
from  the  remains  of  a  severe  cold.  The  Mayor 
of  Stoke-on-Trent,  who  was  present,  in  a  witty 
speech,  turned  the  mourning  into  laughter,  and 
we  parted  merrily. 

On  the  27th  December  of  the  same  year,  I 
accepted  an  invitation  to  a  reception  at  the 
Produce  Market,  Liverpool,  offered  to  me  by  the 
members  of  the  provision  trade,  to  which  I  served 
my  apprenticeship  from  1849  to  1854.  The 
principal  resolution,  ''  to  wish  me  health  and 
happiness,"  was  proposed  in  most  eloquent  terms 
by  Mr.  George  McKibbin,  the  head  of  the  firm  of 
McKibbin  &  Cordukes  with  whom  I  served  my 
time,  whose  acquaintance  I  first  made  when  he 


MY   OLD   SCHOOL  311 

was  still  a  baby  in  long  clothes.  The  resolution 
was  responded  to  wdth  uproarious  applause.  In 
offering  my  cordial  thanks  for  their  hearty  recep- 
tion and  kind  expressions  of  friendship^  I  reminded 
those  present  that  I  was  the  oldest  member  of 
the  provision  trade  among  them.  < 

On  the  seventy-fourth  anniversary  of  my  birth- 
day, 28th  February,  1908,  I  was  entertained  at  a 
reception  held  by  the  headmaster,  Mr.  H.  V. 
Weisse,  the  masters  and  boys  at  the  Liverpool 
Institute,  the  school  at  which  I  received  my 
education.  I  entered  in  1840  and  left  to  begin 
my  apprenticeship  in  1849.  To  the  headmaster 
during  my  time  (and  for  some  years  after),  Mr. 
Alexander  Mcllveen,  I  owe  the  foundation  of  any 
good  I  have  been  of,  or  have  done  in  this  world, 
and  I  feel  sure  that  a  number  of  my  contemporaries, 
if  there  are  any  still  alive,  would  say  the  same  ; 
and  I  congratulate  the  directors  of  the  Institute 
on  their  good  fortune  in  having  secured  so  worthy 
a  successor  to  him  in  Mr.  Weisse. 

We  had  a  short  musical  entertainment  in  the 
fine  Lecture  Hall,  where  I  made  my  first  public 
appearance  in  1853.  The  boys'  share  was  the 
soprano  and  alto  parts  in  three  choruses  from 
Handel's  ''  Acis  and  Galatea,"  including  the 
difficult  double  chorus  ''Wretched  lovers"  ;  and 
one  or  two  "  four-part  songs  " — the  tenor  and  bass 
parts  being  ably  supplied  by  the  masters  ;  the 
music  studied  under  the  direction  of  and  the  per- 
formance conducted  b}/  Mr.  Weisse  himself.     I  can 


312      REMINISCENCES   OF  MY   LIFE 

only  say  I  was  astounded  at  the  precision,  intona- 
tion, and  delicacy  of  the  execution  of  all  the 
numbers. 

In  return  for  their  offering,  I  gave  them  "  Oh, 
Ruddier  than  the  Cherry,''  and  one  or  two  of  my 
other  favourite  ditties,  accompanied  by  Miss  H. 
McCuUagh.  At  the  conclusion  of  our  little  concert, 
the  head  boy  of  the  school  stepped  forward  and 
read  a  very  graceful  address  congratulating  me 
on  having  attained  my  jubilee  and  the  honour 
His  Majesty  had  been  pleased  to  confer  on  me,  and 
he  then  presented  me  with  an  elegant  silver  bowl 
as  a  souvenir  from  himself  and  comrades  to  the 
head  boy  of  nearly  sixty  years  ago. 

In  reply  to  the  touching  address,  I  told  the  boys 
how  much  to  me  the  value  of  their  handsome 
present  was  enhanced  by  the  knowledge  that 
(as  Mr.  Weisse  informed  me)  it  was  purchased  with 
the  boys'  pocket-money,  their  parents  having  been 
prohibited  from  subscribing  so  much  as  a  farthing. 
I  am  sure  nobody  can  find  fault  with  me  when  I  say 
it  was  the  most  joyful  episode  I  experienced  in 
connection  with  my  jubilee  and  subsequent 
honour. 

On  the  11th  April,  1908,  I  was  present  at  a 
banquet  given  in  my  honour  at  the  Exchange, 
Station  Hotel,  Liverpool,  by  the  Liverpool  branch 
of  The  Incorporated  Society  of  Musicians,  of 
which  Society  I  had  recently  been  elected  a 
member.  Before  the  banquet  the  committee 
organized  a  "  musical  afternoon  "  at  the  EberJe 


FROM    A   MS.    NOTE-BOOK    OF    MENDELSSOHN  S 


i^m 


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Mii*ti  ^1  \  I  ' 


LUDGATE    HILL 
A  pencil  drawing  by  Mendelssohn  (ibid. J 


JUBILEE   COMPLIMENTS  313 

Hall,  in  close  proximity  to  the  hotel.  The 
''Schievers  Quartett  "played  some  concerted  and 
solo  pieces,  and  I  sang  some  of  my  well-known 
songs,  including,  of  course,  being  the  work  of 
Liverpool's  most  celebrated  musician  (John  Liptrot 
Hatton),  '*To  Anthea,"  accompanied  by  Mr.  H.  A. 
Branscombe. 

The  Lord  Mayor  had  most  graciously  consented 
to  preside  at  the  banquet,  but  was,  unfortunately, 
obliged  to  absent  himself  from  Liverpool,  called 
away  by  important  business.  His  place  was  ably 
filled  by  Dr.  J.  C.  Bridge,  organist  of  Chester 
Cathedral.  We  were  entertained  with  several 
eloquent  and  witty  speeches.  All  present  ex- 
pressed unbounded  satisfaction  with  the  way  in 
which  the  arrangements  for  both  concert  and 
banquet  had  been  organized  and  carried  out  by 
Mr.  Ernest  Young,  Secretary  of  the  Liverpool 
branch  of  the  I.S.M. 

I  have  left  to  the  last  a  most  precious  gift 
presented  to  me  by  my  neighbour  for  many  years, 
Mrs.  Swinburne,  an  excellent  pianiste  and  musi- 
cian, as  a  souvenir  of  the  celebration  of  my  jubilee- 
With  her  permission  I  publish  the  kind  letter  which 
accompanied  her  gift  ;  a  note-book  which  Felix 
Mendelssohn  carried  in  his  pocket  in  the  year 
1832,  containing  water-colour  and  pencil  drawings, 
sketches  of  songs,  etc.,  for  his  sister  Rebecca.  The 
accompanying  facsimiles  will  furnish  a  better 
description  of  the  little  book  than  anything  I  could 
write. 


314      REMINISCENCES   OF   MY   LIFE 

On  the  25th  February  last  I  was  presented 
with  a  laurel  wreath  by  the  members  of  Mr. 
John  Kirkhope's  choir  between  the  parts  of  a 
performance  of  ''Elijah"  at  Edinburgh. 

Here  I  conclude.  By  the  grace  of  God  I  have 
been  able  to  do  my  work  with  few  interruptions 
for  upwards  of  fifty-five  years,  and  am  still  able  to 
do  it  at  the  age  of  seventy-four  whenever  I  am 
called  upon  ;  and  will  continue  to  work  as  long  as 
it  is  God's  will  to  preserve  me,  my  voice,  and 
faculties. 

I  take  no  formal  '*  Farewell  "  ;  we  may  meet 
again.  If  it  should  not  be  here,  I  hope  we  may 
meet  where  there  will  be  one  Composer,  one 
Conductor,  and  that  we  may  all  join  in  one  choir 
to  sing  His  praise  for  ever  and  ever  ! 


INDEX 


Agnew,  John  Henry,  75,  95,  138- 

143 
Ainsworth,  W.  Harrison,  72 
Alexandra,  H.M.  Queen,  108 
Archer,  Brigadier-Surgeon,   194 
Arditi,   118 

Armstrong,  Captain,  219 
Art  of  Singing,  The,  126,  282,  286 
Auber,    17,   23 
Aufdermaur,  Miss,  80 
Austin,  Mr.  Henry,  246 

Balfe,  Michael  WiUiam,  17,  102, 

109,   131 
Ballads,  101 
Bancroft,  Mr.,   136 
Beale,  Willert,  22 
Beecher,  Lady,  50 
Belletti,   15 
Bennett,  Joseph,  130 
Bernard,  Rev.  Father,  180 
Bettinis,  112 

Bevan,  Dr.  Llewellyn,  202 
Beverley,  Henry,  12 
Bishop,  Sir  Henry,   15 
Bishop,  Thomas,  15 
Blanchard,  E.  L.,  257 
"  Bohemian  Girl,  The,"   14,   18 
Boito's  "  Mefistofele,"   118 
Boosey,  J.,  34,  101,  176 
Borragan,  Dr.,  21 
Borrani,  20,  21 
Bosio,   Angehna,  217 
Boucicault,  Dion,   110 
Bourne,  Dr.,  307 
Boyer,   M.,    117 
Boyle,  Mary,  48 
Braham,  Augustus,  22 
Branscombe,  Mr.  H.  A.,  313 
Bridge,  Dr.  J.  C,  313 
Browne,    James,    12 
Buchanan,  George,   176 
Buckridge,  Mr.,  222 
Buckstone,  John,  13,  136 
Buckstone,  Miss  Mary,  137 


Burdekin,  Mr.  F.,  209,  210 
Butler,  Mrs.  Pierce,  35 

Campanini,  118 

Campbell-Bannerman,  SirH.,  308 

Campobello,  Signor,  107 

Cape,  Mr.  Alfred,  237.  238,  246 

Carr,  Dr.,  200,  240 

Carrington,  Lord,  235 

Carrodus,  John,  275 

Chang,  207 

Chappell,  Arthur,   146 

Cherubini,  114 

Choate,  Mr.,  156 

Chollet,   109 

Chorley,  H.  F.,  39,  47,  51,  53,  61. 

86 
Clarke,  Rev.  Charles,  248 
Clarke,  Joe,  164,  165 
Clay,  Fred,  86 
Coghlan,  Mr.,  136 
Compton,  Mrs.  Henry,  13 
Consort,  H.R.H.  the  Prince,  19 
Cook,  Aynsley,  107,  108,  110,  HI, 

112,  128,  151 
Cook,  Mrs.  Aynsley,  107 
Cook,  Eugene,  22 
Cook,   Theodore,    147 
Corri,  Henry,  22 
Cowen,   Frederick,   H.    129 
Cushman,  Charlotte,  13,  22,  63 
Cusins,  W.  G.,  136 

Darley,  Lady,  246 
Darley.  Sir  Frederick,  246 
Dean,  Charles,  148,  149,   150 
Delavanti,    16 
Devonport,  Frank,   171 
Dicker,  Mr.  Seymour,  222 
Dixon,  Hepworth,  222 
Dolby,   George,    155 
Donne,  Rev.  Charles,  70 
Donne,  William  Bodham,  70 
Donnelly,  Dr.,  240 
Dowling,  Thos.  Barrow,  275,  296 


315 


316 


INDEX 


Doyle,  Richard,  49 
Dyce.  Mr.,  62 

Edward  VII,  H.M.  King,  108,  308 
"  Elijah,"  204,  242,  300,  314 
Emery,  Samuel,  63,  64.  136 
Essex,  Countess  of,  50,  53 
Everill,  Mr.,  136 

Farren,  Miss  E.,  137 

Fechter,  Charles,  63,  64 

"  Festival  Choral  Society,"  5 

Fields,  James  T.,  156 

"  Figaro,"  Caste  of,  107 

Fitzball,  Mr.,  115 

Fitzwilliam,  Mrs.,   13 

Fladgate,  Mr.,  62 

'  Flying   Dutchman,    The,"    115, 

126 
"  Flying    Dutchman,"    Caste    of, 

125 
Folkestone,  Viscountess,   136 
Foli,  34.   146 
Frederick,  H.R.H.  Prince.  19 

Gabriel,  Virginia,  48.  50 

Garcia,  Manuel,  281.  282 

Garcia,  Pauline  Viardot.  281,  283, 

302 
Garrick,  Mrs.,  27 
Gassier,  Louis.  22 
Gaylord,  Julia,   110.   Ill 
Ghislanzoni,  29 
Gilman,  Mr.  Henry.  303 
Giuglini,  15.  75 
Giuseppe.    75 
Glover,  Howard,  93 
Got.  63 

Gotch.  Tom,  164 
Gounod,   31 
Grant.  Lady,  35 
Greville.  Henry.  48.  49,  50 
Grogan,   Rev.  Vincent,   171,    173, 

180,   308 
"  Guy  Mannering,"  13 

HALLi;,  Sir  C.  31.  38,  84.  136 

Handel,  7 

Handel  Festival.  The,  6,  7 

Hamiss.  Miss,  40 

Hamiss.  Rev.  WiUiam,  40,  62 

Harris,  Augustus,  120 

Harris.  Dr.  Charles,  263.  271 

Harrison,  William,  17,  18-20 


Hasen,  Signor,  232,  234 
Hatton,  John  Liptrot,  313 
Hecht,  Edward,  95 
Hensman,  Miss,  187 
Hensman,  Mr.  F.,  187 
Hensman,  Mrs.,  187 
Hersee.  Mr.  Henry,  129 
Hey  wood.  Mr..   66 
Homcastle,  Fred,   17 
Howe.  H.,  136 
Howell,  Arthur,   107,   108 
Howell,  Mrs.  A.,  107 
Hewlett,  Mr.  W.  R.  C,  309 

Irving,  Henry,   136,   137 

James,  Mr.  David,  136 
"  Japanese  Tommy,"  91 
Joubert,  General,  279 

Kean.   Edmund.    11,    12,  27.  45, 

49,  62 
Kemble,  Charles,  35,   148 
Kemble,  Comet,  64-8 
Kemble.  Fanny,  56,  58-62,  65 
Kemble.    Gertrude.    35,    38    (see 

Mrs.  Santley) 
Kemble,  Henry,  68-70,   137,   147, 

152,  153,  161,  168,  182 
Kemble,  John  Mitchell,  70 
Kemble.  John  Philip,  35,  45 
Kemble,  Mildred.  40 
Kenney,  Charles  Lamb,    137 
Kilmorey,  Lord,  305,  306 
Kirkhope.  Mr.  John.  314 
Kriiger,  Mr.,  279 

Lacy,  Walter,  69 

Lavenu,  17 

Leighton.  Frederick,  48 

Leo  XIII,  Pope,  289.  307 

Leshe,  Henry,  136,  170 

Lloyd,  Edward,  95,  301 

Lockey,  Mrs.,  6 

London  Ballad  Concerts,  100 

Lucombe,  Miss  Emma,  16 

Ludwig,  William.  110.  Ill 

Lunn,  Madame  Kirkby.   284 

Lunza.  Miss,  16 

Lyall.  Charles.  107,  108,  110,  111, 

112.  128,  132,  133,  165,  180,  213, 

214,   262 
Lyttleton,  Hon.  R.  H.,  172 
Lytton,  Bui  war,   131 


INDEX 


317 


MacColl,  Mrs.  D..  297 
MacCullagh,  Miss  H.  312 
MacDonald,  Dr.,  229 
Macfarren,  George  A.,  7,  114,  169, 

171 
Machin,  Mr.,  7 
Macllveen,  Mr.  A.,  311 
MacKibbin,  Mr.  George,  310 
Macready,  William  Charles,  11,  12, 

63,   127 
Manning,  Cardinal,  308 
Manns,  August,  136 
Mapleson,  James,  106,  118 
Mapleson  Concert  Company,   116 
Marks,  Stacey,  163 
Mario,  63,  145,  146,  248 
Mathews,  Charles,  12,  22.  136 
Mathews,  Mrs.  Frank,  12 
Meiggs,  Henry  E.,  172 
Mellon,  Alfred,   11,   107 
Mellon,  Mrs.  Alfred,  137 
Mendelssohn,  204,  301,  313 
Menzies,  Mr.  J.  M.,  222 
"  Messiah,  The,"  6,  40,  242,  290 
Meyerbeer,   270 
Milligan,  Mr.  Alex.,  298 
Miranda,  Lalla,  217 
Mitchell,   John,  35 
Montagu,  Emmeline  (see  Mrs.  H. 

Compton) 
Moran,  Cardinal,  200,  246 
Mortimer,  Mr.  Alfred,  249 
Mozart,  7,  105 
Muspratt,  Dr.  Sheridan,  13 

Naylor,  Sidney,  92 
Neilson,  Miss,  137 
Newton,  La  Signora,  139 
Nicolo's  "  Joconde,"   123,  128 
Nicholson,    Henry,    97 
Nightingale,  Miss  Marie,  277 
Nilsson,  Christine,   118,   146 

"  Oculist,"  The,  202,  205,  223, 
224,  225,  227,  230,  231,  232.  233, 
234-238,  241,  245 

O'Neill,  Rev.  Alphonsus,  207 

O'Rell.  Max,  275 

"  Organist,"  The,  202.  223,  224, 
227,  228    234,  239,  248 

Ould,  Charles,  276 

Ould,  Percy,  276 

Ouseley,  Sir  F.  G.,  28 


Owen,  Colonel,   205 
Oxenford,   John.   112 

Pachmann.  271.  293 

Packard,  F..  125 

"  Papa  Martino,"   112 

Park  &  Tilford,  Messrs..  154 

Parry.  John,  136 

Patey  Mrs.,  34 

Patti.  Adelina.  112 

Piatti,    172 

Piccolomini,   15 

Pinsuti,   146 

Pius  X.  Pope,  307 

Plunkett,  Major,   176,  247 

Procter,  Adelaide,  30 

Pyne.  Louisa,  15,  17,  18,  23 

Pyne,  Susan,  18 

Queensland,  Rt.  Rev.  Bishop  of, 
185,   188 

Rainforth,  Bessie,  14 
Reeves,  Emma,  79-87 
Reeves,  Sims,  7,  16,  17,  34.  79-87, 

88.  89,  90.  92.  96,  97,  102,  146 
Richards,  Brinley.  19 
Righton.  E..  136 
Riseley,  Mr.  George,  309 
Ristori.  Adelaide.  63 
Robertson.  Forbes,  137 
Robson.  Fred.  63,  111.  130 
Romer,  Annie.  13 
Ronconi.  Giorgio.  63 
Rosa.  Carl,  104.  105.  108,  112.  123, 

124,  133,  135 
"  Rose  of  Castille,  The,"  19 
Rossetti,  D.  G.,  48-9 
Rossini,  204 

Royal,  H.R.H.  Princess,  19 
Ryder,  Mr.,   136 

Salvini,  Tommaso,  63 

Santley,  Miss  Edith,  71 

Santley,  Mrs.,  40,  43,  53.  71,  81 

Santley,  Sir  Charles  :  ancestors, 
1  ;  an  elopement,  4  ;  male  and 
female  alto  contrasted,  6  ;  Love 
for  the  drama,  8  ;  passion  for 
"  the  sea,"  9 ;  Enghsh  opera 
"  touring  companies,"  16 ; 
nervous  temperament,  26 ; 
criticisms,  27 ;  a  successful 
tour  (professional),  32;    ballad 


318 


INDEX 


Santley,  Sir  Charles — (cont.)  : 
concerts,  34 ;  connection  with 
the  Kembles,  35  ;  marriage,  40  ; 
Kemble  relations,  45 ;  dinner 
party  at  Edward  Sartoris's,  48  ; 
dinner  party  at  the  Countess  of 
Essex's,  51  ;  a  holiday  trip,  71  ; 
bargaining,  75  ;  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Reeves  in  Switzerland,  79  ; 
with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Reeves  at 
Her  Majesty's  Theatre,  Lon- 
don, 83 ;  libels  on  pubhc 
characters,  94  ;  engagement  at 
the  Princess's  Theatre  (English 
opera),  104 ;  touring  (profes- 
sional), 116;  Boito's  "  Mefis- 
tofele,"  118;  English  opera 
season  Lyceum  Theatre,  1876, 
123  ;  "  The  Flying  Dutchman," 
125  ;  "  Joconde,"  128  ;  Fredk. 
Cowen's  "  PauHne,"  129  ;  "  The 
School  for  Scandal,"  136  ;  trip 
to  Italy  with  John  Henry 
Agnew,  138;  Venice  Bouquet, 
142  ;  Festival  of  St.  Mark,  143  ; 
Mario  concert,  146  ;  across  the 
Atlantic  and  back,  147  ;  a 
crusty  purser,  151,  159  ;  Ameri- 
can generosity  to  artistes, 
153  ;  three  "  innocents  "  156  ; 
a  family  tour  in  Italy  and 
Switzerland,  161  ;  sketching, 
162,  165  ;  a  cure  for  sea-sickness 
167  ;  definition  of  "  music," 
170;  a  trip  to  Malta,  174;  a 
discourse  in  Arabic,  176  ;  bound 
for  Australia,  180  ;  "  The  Bay  " 
at  play,  181  ;  attractions  of  the 
"  bar,"  183  ;  games  and  meals 
on  board  ship,  188  ;  a  glimpse  of 
Eastern  life,  192  ;  at  Adelaide, 
196  ;  impressions  of  Melbourne, 
200 ;  Sydney,  205  ;  search  for 
relations,  205  ;  Melbourne,  213  ; 
jolly  companions,  218;  a  fash- 
ionable hotel,  221  ;  concerts 
"  on  the  cheap,"  226  ;  a  stern 
critic,  230  ;  a,  "  miscarriage  of 
justice,"  238  ;  a  mayor's  urban- 
ity, 240;  Auckland,  242;  an 
anonymous    letter    at    Hobart, 

243  ;      "  Oculist  "    v.    Santley, 

244  ;   Cardinal  Moran's  farewell 


Santley,  Sir  Charles — (cont.)  : 
lunch,  246 ;  joys  of  Broken 
Hill,  249 ;  African  exploits, 
250  ;  tricks  on  travellers,  251  ; 
"  tipping  "  grievance,  254  ; 
Jaffa,  Jerusalem,  Bethlehem, 
257  ;  returns  home,  262 ; 
change  in  musical  affairs,  262  ; 
Canadian-American  tour,  264  ; 
the  British  workman,  265 ; 
instruction,  education  and  obe- 
dience, 268  ;  a  successful  tour, 

272  ;  preparations  for  teaching, 

273  ;  at  the  Cape,  275  ;  teacher 
of  singing,  280  ;  effects  of  bad 
teaching,  284  ;  use  and  abuse 
of  his  name,  286  ;  Rome  and 
Brunnen,  288 ;  British  and 
foreign  hotels,  290 ;  changes, 
294  ;  another  trip  to  the  Cape, 
296  ;    "  Elijah  "  at  Maritzburg, 

300  ;    "  Elijah  "  at  Albert  Hall, 

301  ;    knighthood,  303 
Santley' s  Singing  Master,  21 A 
Sartoris,  Adelaide,  20,  35,  39,  48, 

51,  56,  146 
Sartoris,  Edward,  49 
Sass,  Madame,  287 
Schira,  120 
"  School  for  Scandal,  The,"  Caste 

for,  136 
Schubert,  142 

Scott-Gatty,  Sir  Alfred,  2,' 3 
Sherrington,  Mme.  Lemmens,  34 
Shirriff,  Miss,  7 
Siddons,  Mrs.,  35,  45 
"  Siege  of  Rochelle,  The,"  Caste 

for,   110 
Smallfield,  Fred,   163 
Smart,  Sir  George,  7 
Smith,  E.,  106 
Smythe,  Mr.,  240,  242,  248,  275, 

279 
Snazelle,  George,  5 
Sterling,  Mme.  A.,  34,  137 
Stevens,  Mr.  C,  196,  204,  244,  249 
Strang,  Billy,  164 
Student  and  Singer,  1,  3,  25,  243, 

274 
Sugden,  C,  136 
Sullivan,  Arthur,  86,  136 
SulHvan,  Barry,  13 
Swinburne,  Mrs.,  313 


INDEX 


319 


"  Tannhauser,"  126 
Tennant,  Dorothy,   164 
Terry,  Ellen,  137 
Thomas  Ambroise,  28 
Tomlin,  Capt.  Philip,   180,   186 
Torriani,    Ostava.    107.    108.    110, 

111,    125 
Trebelli-Bettini,    112.   118 
Trevor,  Earl  Tudor,  3 
Tuke,  Henr>',   164,  167 
Turner.  J.,   125 

Vandenhoff,  John,  13 
Vert,  Mr.,  247 
Vialetti,  15 
Viardot,  M.,  51,  63 
Victoria,  H.M.  Queen,  19 
Vivier,  54 

Wagner,  Richard,  126 
Wallace,   17 


"  Water  Carrier,   The,"    113 
Watson,  James,  148 
Weber,  Sir  Herman,  145 
Webster,  Benjamin,  63,  136 
Weiss,  Willoughby,  20,  87 
Weisse.  Mr.  H.  V.,  311 
Weldon,  Mrs..    112 
Westlake.    Fred..    278 
White,  Maude,  59 
Whitworth,  Mr.,  17 
Williams,  Anna,  95 
Williams,    Martha    (see   Mrs. 

Lockey) 
Wilson.  Mr.  R.  H.,  309 

York,  Josephine,  107.  108 
Young,  Mr.  Ernest,  313 
Young,  Rev.  Francis,  51 

"Zampa,"   109 
Zeppelin,  Count,  288 


THE   END 


Press  of  Isaac  Pitman  &  Sons,  Bath,  England. 

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